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K.G., G.G.V.O. 




524 KUSSELL square LONDON W.G.I 



my beloved Father 



and to 

my Stepmother 
whose memory I cherish. 


I desire to offer my cordial thanks to the many kind friends 
who, by the help they have given me with such skilful 
generosity, have made the preparation of this book a source 
of interest and pleasure. Their number is so great that I cannot 
mention them all by name ; but I trust that those whose assist- 
ance remains unacknowledged in print will beheve that I am 
none the less grateful. 

I am specially indebted to my wife, not only for the contri- 
bution she has been good enough to write, but also for the con- 
stant interest she has taken in the progress of the book ; to my 
sister, Ottoline MorreU, for her vivid account of our arrival at 
Welbeck in December 1 87*9, and for much editorial supervision ; 
to Ettie Desborough for her charmingly written remembrances 
of some of the visits we have been fortunate enough to receive 
from her husband and her dear self; to Ehsalex de Baillet Latour, 
whose enchanting contribution, follows immediately 

after my own chapters; and to Count Ferdinand Kinsky — ^who, 
alas, is no longer with us — and Count van der Straten, for their 
interesting account of the Imperial Stud at Lipizza from its 
origin until the present day. 

I am also grateful to my daughter, Victoria Wemyss, and to 
Titchfield; to my old friends Willy Desborough, Weston Jarvis 
and Ronald Graham; and to R.W.Bro. Hayman, Mr. J. H. 
Turner, Mr. T. Warner Turner and Mr. G. Godfray Sellick, 
who have all sent valuable contributions, which appear in var- 
ious chapters of the book or in the appendix, or have assisted me 
in other ways. 

My grateful thanks are also due to those who have sent 


pictures for reproduction; and to Mr. R. B. Fleming, the very 
skilful photographer who made the negatives. 

I owe a special debt of gratitude to Mr. Richard de la Mare 
for his unfailing courtesy and good advice, and for his more than 
ordinary forbearance with my sometimes, I fear, rather tire- 
some requests and suggestions. 

Finally, I wish to thank Francis Needham for the invaluable 
help he has given me in the preparation not only of this, but also 
of the other two books with which my name is connected. I can 
say with truth that, without his encouragement and assistance, 
I should never have ventured to begin, much less to finish them. 


Welbeck Abbey ^ 

August, 1937 



PREFACE page vii 
































THE DUKE OF PORTLAND, K.G., G.C.V.O. frontispiece 


MY MOTHER, DIED 4 JANUARY, 1 858 facing page ^ 

A. C. BENTINCK, 1 869. PORTLAND, 1 92 1 . A. F. MAC- 

TINCK, DUBLIN, C.1865 10 
















JUNE IITH, 1889 47 


GATE, 1889 ■ 48 


WINIFRED PORTLAND focing page 49 






1934 58 

























ION, JANUARY 3 OTH, 1648/9 facing page 








1800 103 









21 JANUARY, 1886 1 13 





1887 between pages 1 20 and 1 2 1 


MARCH, 1890, BY DR. RANDALL DAVIDSON /. p. 12 1 


1914 127 


1902 128 







‘skittles’ 142 



ROTTEN ROW IN 1 867 I45 


1882 146 








DUDLEY, 1864 152 

THE COUNTESS OF DUDLEY between pages and 


PRESS EUGENIE facing page 153 











THE MARCHIONESS OF GRANBY between pages 160 and i6i 




WINIFRED PORTLAND between pages i6o and i6i 



OF LYTTON 160 161 






MARY ANDERSON 160 and 161 

GLADYS COOPER 160 and 161 










1884 173 








17 DECEMBER, I9IO 1 86 


WELBECK, 1913 ^ 87 




WELL, BT. 198 



‘bwab’, 1886 between pages 200 and 201 



between pages 200 and 201 





GREAT WAR, 1 4 AUGUST, I914 2O9 







between pages 224 and 225 
224 and 225 

PORTLAND between pages 224 0. 



VICTORIA. MORVEN 224 and 225 

A SELF-PORTRAIT (p. A. DE LASZLO) 224 and 225 


VICTORIA 224 and 225 

HAPPY MEMORIES, FEBRUARY, 1 889 22^ and 22 ^ 



AND LOVAT, WELBECK, I913 facing page 22 ^ 







NEPAL, 1883 facing page 261 


DELHI DURBAR, 1903 between pages 26/^ and ^6^ 

GHiEF AND HIS STAFF facing page 265 











WELBEGK, 1912 284 




R.Y.S. ‘CATANIA’, 1906 289 


THE LAWN AT GOODWOOD between pages 296 and 297 

A YEARLING SALE, NEWMARKET facing page 2 ^^ 



PAGET 3*^5 


THE EARL OF FIFE, K.T., 1 864 . 3^1 





facing page 319 









ALPHY (prince CLARY & ALDRINGEN) 33 1 







1898 346 



CHEON, 1899 354 













T out passe^ tout casse^ tout lasse. This well-known proverb 
is my reason and my excuse for writing the following 
memories. Hardly anything in life is the same to-day as 
it was in my youth. Then, there was a happy sense of stability 
and of security ; but now, it seems to me, there is little or none of 
either. Matters which, fifty or sixty years ago, were thought to 
be of great importance, the sayings and doings of those who 
were considered to be distinguished men and women of the 
time, have, like themselves, for the most part flown, 

. . . forgotten, as a dream 
Dies at the opening day. 

In the world of politics the change is especially noticeable. 
Fifty years ago, when the opposing parties were Conservative 
and Liberal, there was often considerable excitement during 
elections; but I think there was little or nothing of vital con- 
sequence to the nation at issue between the two parties except, 
perhaps, the Home Rule Bill for Ireland. This state of afiairs 
may be said to have ended with the election of 1906 and the 
Limehouse speeches of a prominent politician. Now the position 
is entirely different, for there is no longer a powerful and mod- 
erate Liberal Party standing between the National Parties and 
those who support socialistic or communistic principles. 

In 1880 the great houses of London, taking them roughly 
from north to south, werei Hertford House in Manchester 
Square, the residence of Sir Richard Wallace, a son of Lord 
Hertford, now the home of the Wallace Collection; Grosvenor 
House in Upper Grosvenor Street, the residence of the Duke of 
Westminster; Dorchester House in Park Lane, built at vast 

expense by Mr. Holford on the lines of a Florentine palazzo, and 
filled with wonderful pictures; Londonderry House, also in 
Park Lane; Lansdowne House in Berkeley Square ; Devonshire 
House in Piccadilly; Spencer House, overlooking St. James’s 
Park; Chesterfield House; Stafford House (now the London 
Museum), the home of the Duke of Sutherland; Bridgewater 
House, that of Lord Ellesmere; Apsley House, that of the Duke 
of Wellington ; Montagu House in Whitehall, the residence of 
the Duke of Buccleuch; and Holland House, that of Lord 
Ilchester. Nearly all these great houses were thrown open every 
season for large social gatherings. Now, except four, they are 
closed, and the pictures and other works of art which they con- 
tained have, generally speaking, been scattered all over the 
world. At present, only Londonderry House, Apsley House, 
Bridgewater House and Holland House remain as private resi- 
dences. The latter of these, which is perhaps the most interesting 
and important of all, is still the residence of a member of the 
family of its eighteenth-century owners, who takes a just pride in 
his old home. Vast and, in my opinion, hideous buildings have 
taken the place of Grosvenor House and Lansdowne House, and 
another, if possible more hideous still, that of the beautiful Dor- 
chester House; while, from a social point of view, restaurants, 
cabarets and night-clubs have risen in their place. Sic transit 
gloria mundi — a glory which, in this instance, I fear can never be 

As a further example of this continuous process of change, let 
me take Grosvenor Square. When I first Hved there in 1890, it 
was one of the most old-time quarters of London, for many of 
the houses had been occupied by the same families for several 
generations. Now, private houses are quickly disappearing from 
the Square (my own house, in which I lived for forty-five years, 
was demolished in 1936), and great blocks of flats have been 
erected in their place. 

Large country estates, which had been in the possession of the 
same families for years without number, have been and are still 
being broken up, and the houses attached to them sold to indi- 


viduals, most of whom have had little or no connection with the 
land; or have been turned into schools or other institutions. 
Though it is unfortunate that this severance should be neces- 
sary, it may yet have its redeeming side, for by this break- 
ing up of large estates more landed proprietors are created. 
This means that a greater number of people have a stake and an 
interest in the land of the country than before, which should 
make for stability. On the other hand, farmers no longer have 
the old landlords to whom they were accustomed to turn for 
help when times were bad, as I fear they generally are in these 

Many of the great country houses, when not in the occupa- 
tion of strangers, or used for other purposes, quickly become 
derelict. I can speak of this from my own experience ; for when I 
first lived at Welbeck the great neighbouring houses, such as 
Clumber, Thoresby and Rufford, were all inhabited by their 
owners, who for the most part employed large staffs of servants 
of every kind. Now, not one of them is so occupied, except for a 
very few days in the year, and the shooting attached to them 
is either let or abandoned. As the years pass, more and more 
such houses will be deserted, and the employees will be obliged 
to find other homes, and other means of subsistence. Whether 
or no this is for the general good I leave for others to judge. It 
is certainly the fact. 

For all this, I believe human nature is, and will always be, 
the same ; it may therefore be only the outside and visible form 
of things which has so much altered. I hope that the new world, 
though I do not always agree with its ways, holds just as many 
possibilities of happiness, good-fellowship and enjoyment of life 
as that which I knew and shall try to some extent to describe in 
this book. I have no wish to appear as laudator temporis acti^ or as 
a whole-hearted admirer of the so-called ‘good old times.’ In 
many ways they were anything but good; and in most things, 
though perhaps not in all, the conditions of to-day, social and 
otherwise, are much better for the majority of people than they 
were in my youth. For example, the opportunity provided by 


motor transport for ready access to the fresh air and beauty of 
the country gives an additional and healthy interest in life to 
town people. Motor cars also make it possible to fulfil many 
duties which would have been impracticable in the days of 
horse traffic. And whenever I find myself in the dentist’s chair, I 
am extremely thankful that I live in modem times. I well re- 
member that, when I was a boy and had a toothache, my father 
sent for the village doctor. I was told to sit on a wooden chair, 
and that, if I did not make a fuss, I should be given ten shillings - 
I can still feel that doctor’s damned forceps dragging out a 
double tooth, of course without any kind of anaesthetic! I am 
proud to say, however, that I received my ten shillings. 

I have lately seen a very old friend, who has read both my 
other books. I told him I was writing a third volume of memo- 
ries, and he said, ‘Has it ever stmck you that if you write down 
everything you and I think we know, nobody will print it; but 
if you don’t do so, hardly anybody will take the trouble to read 
it? So what are you going to do?’ I explained to him that, re- 
membering the Latin words medio tutissimus ibis, I have tried to 
follow the course they indicate. I hope I have written nothing 
that can hurt the feelings of anyone. I have set down nothing in 
malice, but have done my best to writ.e with a sense of truth and, 
at the same time, always with a twinkle in the eye. 




great many memoirs begin with a family history of the 
individuals who write them. For my part, I usually skip 
that part of a book, not being much interested whether 
or no a man’s ancestors fought at Gr6cy and Agincourt, or were 
transported or hanged for murder, sheep-stealing or highway 
robbery. However, I fear I must to a certain extent follow the 
usual custom, and say that my father, Lieutenant-General Arthur 
Bentinck^ (1819-1877), was the second son of Lord Charles Ben- 
tinck ( 1 780- 1826), third son of the third Duke of Portland ( 1 738- 
1809), who was twice Prime IMinister. Lord Charles was a 
younger brother of Lord William Bentinck (1774-1839), the cele- 
brated soldier, administrator and Governor-General of India. 
My father’s elder brother, the Rev. C. W. F. Bentinck, was the 
father of the Countess of Strathmore, and so grandfather of Her 
Majesty Queen Elizabeth. My mother, whom he married on 
February i8th, 1857, was Elizabeth Sophia, eldest daughter of 
Sir St. Vincent Hawkins- Whitshed, Bt., and the Hon. Elizabeth 
Erskine, daughter of Lord Erskine, and granddaughter of the 
famous Lord Chancellor Erskine.® An old lady, a contemporary 
of my mother, told me that she was known as ‘the Perthshire 
Rose’ ; but, alas, she died a few days after my birth, at Kin- 
naird near Dunkeld, then a dower-house of the Duke of AthoU, ® 

iThe 3rd Duke of Portland prefixed the name Cavendish to his own surname, 
Sentinck, by Royal licence in i8oi. I believe, however, that he had formerly re- 
fused to do so, saying, ‘Cavendish is a very good name, and Bentinck is a very good, 
name. Why combine them?’ My father and others of his generation agreed with 
this latter view, and rarely used the double name, which they rather ridiculed. 

®The very brilliant Thomas Erskine, first Lord Erskine, was born in 1 750; called 
to the Bar 1778; appointed Lord Chancellor 1806; died 1823. 

®It is now the property of the Hon, Sir John and Lady Ward. 


where my grandfather and grandmother resided for a great part 
of the year. In 1862 my father married, as his second wife, 
Augusta Mary Elizabeth, younger daughter of the very Rev. 
the Hon. H. M. Browne, Dean of Lismore, and sister of the 
Hon. Mrs. Charles Lindsay, the mother of Violet, Duchess of 
Rutland. She was the mother of my half-brothers and sister, 
Henry (1863-1931), William (1865-1903), Charles (born 1868) 
and Ottoline (born 1873) ; and I shall never cease to be grateful 
for the motherly love and care she extended to me, her stepson. 

As I have said, I was born at Kinnaird House on December 
28th, 1857. During my childhood, I spent a great deal of time 
there with my mother’s parents, as my father was in India with 
the 7th Dragoon Guards, of which he was Colonel. I look back 
with great pleasure and affection to those happy days with my 
grandparents. On my eleventh birthday I was given my first 
gun, a single muzzle loader, with which I was allowed to shoot 
rabbits, and sometimes a grouse or a blackcock, with John 
Stuart, the kind old gamekeeper at Kinnaird. I well remember 
the building of the railway bridge over the Tay at Dalguise,^ 
and of that over the Tummel at Ballinluig, for the branch Hne to 
Aberfeldy. We considered it a wonderful sight, in those days, to 
see the piles being driven into the river bed. One of my early 
recollections is of being given a claspknife by my grandfather, 
with which I cut my name on, and otherwise scarred, a tree 
still standing in the grounds at Kinnaird, near the gate made 
from the jaw-bones of a whale. For this, no doubt righdy, I re- 
ceived a terrible scolding. It must have been in August, 1870,. 
because I recollect going into Dunkeld at about the same time, 
and hearing of the outbreak of war between France and Ger- 
many, and of the initial success of the French at Saarbriicken. 
At the beginning of the War, pubHc opinion was on the side of 
Germany, I suppose because the French were still regarded as 
our hereditary enemies — although it was fifty-five years since 
Waterloo was fought and won — and perhaps because of Queen 
Victoria’s close connection with Germany. 

few years ago I caught two salmon under this bridge. 



COLONEL A. G. BENTINGK Died January 4th, 1858 


Portland, 1921 

taken by Mr. A. F. Mackenzie 
of Birnam 

A. C. Bentinck, 1869 
taken by Mr. A. F. Mackenzie 

A. F. Mackenzie, 1933 The Jaw Bones Gate, Kinnaird 

aged eighty-six 

In 1872 I went with my father for a tour of the battlefields. 
We visited Metz, then occupied by the German army, and 
Sedan, where we saw the house in which the Emperor surren- 
dered to the King of Prussia. We then went on to Paris. I re- 
member being shown the ruins of the Tuileries, which had been 
burnt during the Commune. The walls were still standing, 
partly gutted by fire, but were here and there entire, with torn 
curtains hanging through the broken windows. The Column in 
the Place Vendome had been thrown down and was lying on 
beds of straw; and in the Champs Elys6es there were bullet 
marks round the windows of some of the houses. On most of the 
public buildings the words ‘ Libert^! Egalite! Fraternity 
were painted in large letters ; and in several cases some wag had 
added, ‘AbsurditY!’ in chalk letters of equal size. I remember 
how amused my father was, and how much he laughed, when 
he saw this. He quite gave me the impression that he agreed 
with it. 

Marshal McMahon, the President of the new Republic, was 
pointed out to us, and also General de Gallifet, who had taken 
strong means to suppress the Commune. He was a very hand- 
some man with a white moustache ; but I think what most inter- 
ested me about him, in those days, was that, owing to a wound 
he had received, I beheve in Mexico, he was reported to have 
a silver tummy! 

His wife was a well-known beauty at the court of Napoleon 
III, and a great friend of the Empress, as also were Mme. de 
Sagan and Mme. de Pourtales, all of whom I saw at the races at 
Paris in later years. Then there was M!rs. Standish, the wife of 
Henry Standish, an Englishman. She was considered to be very 
like the Princess of Wales, and did her best to appear so by her 
costume and the way in which she did her hair. 

In the early 6o’s, my father leased a house at Eversley, of 
which Canon Charles Kingsley was then the Rector. My father 
and stepmother knew him very well, and I remember that he 
sometimes took me with him on fishing expeditions. On my sixth 
birthday, he was kind enough to give me a copy of his little 


book The Heroes, which I still prize, inscribed, ‘Arthur Bentinck 
from the Author. With hopes that some day he may be a Hero 
too. Eversley Deer. 28/63’. 

When I was seven years old, I was sent to Mrs. Adams’s school 
on Frant Green, where Edgar Vincent, afterwards Lord D’Aber- 
non, was a pupil. We were subsequently at the same house at 
Eton, at the same crammer’s, and in the same battalion of the 
Coldstream Guards ; and he has remained my lifelong friend. On 
leaving Frant school, I went to the Rev. C. Hartnell’s house in 
the preparatory school at Clifton College, and I still remember 
with horror many uncomfortable and smelly voyages in pig- 
boats which I made between Dublin and Bristol on my way to 
and from school. 

My father, then Colonel Bentinck, held a military appoint- 
ment in Dublin, and we Hved in Elgin House, Raglan Road. 
My father drove a wagonette with two grey horses, named 
Nimble Ninepence^ and Slow Shilling, between our home and 
what were then known as the Island Bridge Barracks. I well re- 
member these drives through Dublin and passing over Balls 
Bridge, notorious during the Great War as the place where 
many Sherwood Foresters were treacherously shot down during 
the Irish Rebelhon. Nor shall I ever forget the varying smells of 
the river Liffey, especially where it passes Guinness’s Porter 
Works. They remain in my nostrils now. 

It was about the time of the Fenian outbreak, the leader in 
which was Head-Centre James Stephens. My father always 
carried a loaded revolver with him, but he was never in any 
way molested — perhaps because of his revolver. I think it was 
either just before or during our stay in Ireland that Lord Strath- 
nairn (nicknamed Lord Strathbogey), famous in earher life as 
Sir Hugh Rose, the hero who fought through and helped to 
suppress the Indian Mutiny, was Commander-in-Chief of the 
Forces. It was reported that the Fenians were preparing for a 

^The Irish ninepence, until 1 700, was a shilling; and the idea of ‘nimble’ was that 
it was thin and easily bent, and was often used as a lovers’ token. I am indebted to 
Mrs. Gibbings of Ballybrack House for this note. 


demonstration in the outskirts of Dublin. Lord Strathnaim 
thereupon marched out the troops and surrounded them, I think 
to the number of a thousand or fifteen hundred. He devised a 
very practical and amusing way of taking them prisoners, for he 
provided the pioneer sergeants with large pairs of scissors, and 
with these they cut off the trouser buttons of the unfortunate 
conspirators. Now, it is impossible for anybody, however active, 
to hold up his trousers and run fast or far. This being done, 
he marched his prisoners through the most frequented streets 
ofDubhn to St. Stephen’s Green; and, when they arrived there, 
he ordered the bugles to be sounded and the drums beaten in 
order to summon as many spectators as possible. The prisoners 
were then freed in the middle of the city, holding up their 
breeches as best they could. Instead of being acclaimed as heroes 
they were, of course, received with roars of derisive laughter. 

For the time being this put an end to the trouble, for the 
Irish sense of humour was effectively tickled and, I believe, not a 
single drop of blood was shed. I may add that during the Indian 
Mutiny, Lord Strathnaim had not scrupled to use the most 
drastic methods of suppression. 

Lord Carlisle was Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland when we first 
went to live in Dublin. He was succeeded by the Marquess 
(later the ist Duke) of Abercorn. Lord Abercorn had several 
very handsome daughters,^ who were known in Dublin as ‘The 
Young Princesses’. Being a fine public speaker, and an ex- 
tremely handsome and dignified man, he received the 
nickname ‘Old Splendid’. It was the custom at the time for 
the Lord-Lieutenant to kiss the debutantes at the Courts which 
were held at Dublin Castle. It was said that during one of these 
ceremonies the Marquess ordered the presentations to cease. A 
looking-glass, a brush and comb, and a bottle of scent were 
brought to him, and he tidied his hair and brushed, combed and 

^Afterwards Lady Winterton, Lady Blandford and Lady Lansdowne. The two 
latter were married on the same day. Another daughter, Lady Dalkeith, after- 
wards Louisa, Duchess of Buccleuch, was my very kind friend and the god- 
mother of my eldest son, and as Mistress of the Robes was my partner when I 
was Master of the Horse. 


scented his beard. The presentations then continued. I hope the 
young ladies appreciated this delicate little attention ! 

The Lord-Lieutenant promised to attend a Ball held in the 
North of Ireland on a very hot night. Among the guests were an 
old lady and her very pretty granddaughter. A young man ap- 
proached the old lady, and said with a bow, ‘May I have the 
pleasure of a dance with your granddaughter?’ ‘You may not, 
young fellow,’ was the reply. T’m keeping her dry for His 

I think I had my first riding lessons in Dublin, for I remember 
being taken by my father to a riding school, where I practised 
jumping the bar without stirrups. After this I was promoted to 
riding in the Phoenix Park with a riding master, and I remem- 
ber being very much struck by the greenness of the Park and by 
the extraordinary amount of mud in the Dublin streets during 
wet weather. 

When I was a boy, I often visited Holland, and stayed at 
Middachten as the guest of dear old Countess Bentinck, the 
widow of Lt.-General Count Bentinck, who, as an officer in the 
Coldstream Guards, had served in the Peninsular War, and had 
received a brevet for distinguished conduct when on the staff of 
the Duke of Wellington at Waterloo. He died in 1864. I just re- 
member seeing him in London ; but when I first went to Mid- 
dachten he had been dead for several years. His brother, Qen. 
Sir Henry Bentinck, K.G.B., married my great-aunt. Miss 
Whitshed, and lived in a house, now demolished, in Upper 
Grosvenor Street. Sir Henry commanded the Coldstream 
Guards in the Crimea, was present at the Battle of the Alma, 
and was severely wounded at the Battle of Inkerman. He was 
afterwards appointed a permanent Groom-in-waiting to Queen 
Victoria. I think it was largely on account of his gallant con- 
duct in the field, and that of his elder brother, that Her Majesty 
allowed him and other members of the Dutch branch of the 
family to use the tide of Count in this country; and well they 
deserved it. 

I much enjoyed my visits to Middachten, and the company 







i M 


; !5 M ^ 

I w ? 








of my kinsman and dear old friend Godard Bentinck, at whose 
house, Amerongen, the German Emperor was interned when he 
fled to Holland at the end of the Great War. Middachten is a 
lovely old Louis XIV house, standing within a double moat fed 
by the river Yssel, which passes close by. Godard and I amused 
ourselves by riding in the surrounding forest and bathing in the 
Rhine at Arnheim, where there was an excellent swimming 
pool with a very swift current. 

Another form of sport which we enjoyed was an exciting but 
reprehensible form of fishing. There were large numbers of carp 
in the moat, which were great pets of the Countess and were 
regularly fed with bread and delicacies left oyer from our meals. 
Some of them were very old ; and two which had gold rings in 
their noses were said to be two hundred years of age, but I will 
not vouch for the truth of this. The sight of these was too much 
for the sporting instinct of Godard and myself. We prepared our 
lethal weapon — a long string and a bent pin. We then carefully 
reconnoitred the whereabouts of the Countess and, thinking she 
was asleep, prepared our bait, and let it down from a window 
about twenty-five feet above the water. 

In a few moments, up came King Carp and swallowed our 
bait ; and we were proceeding to pull up the struggling monster 
when a dulcet but rather severe voice behind us said, ‘Boys, 
boys, what are you doing?’ Alas for us, it was the Countess, 
who was now very far from being asleep ! I had the fine in my 
hand and, proud as I had been a moment or two before, I was 
now only anxious to release the infernal fish. Nothing, however, 
would shake its hold, so I had to pull it up, the Coimtess boxing 
my ears all the time and exclaiming, ‘You naughty boy — ^you 
naughty boy!’ The carp at last appeared over the window-ledge 
and the Countess, after gentiy cutting out the hook, put the fish 
into a basket filled with soft leaves and lowered it, I am afraid 
more dead than alive, into its native element. Fortunately the 
carp soon recovered, and was ever afterwards recognisable by 
the scar in its nose; but it seemed a bit shy of pieces of bread un- 
less they had first been mumbled by other fish. The Countess 

was far too kind to bear any malice and, after the box on the ear, 
I was forgiven; but we were strictly warned never again to 
exercise our sporting instincts at the expense of her sacred and 
scaly pets. The carp was always referred to by the Countess as 
‘the victim of Arthur and Godard’s shocking conduct’. 

On leaving Clifton I was sent to a private tutor, the Rev. W. 
Sandilands, of Denford Vicarage near Thrapston, and then to 
the Rev. C. C. James’s House at Eton. Dr. Hornby was Head 
master of Eton at the time, and ‘old Judy Durnford’ the 
Lower Master. I am afraid my acquaintance with Durnford 
was closer and more intimate than it ever was with the Head- 
master ! 

I have a vivid recollection of a review held in Windsor Park 
in 1873, when I was at Eton, in honour of the Shah of Persia, 
Nasru ’d-Din,^ then on a visit to England. The Shah rode a 
beautiful white Arab, which he had brought with him from 
Persia. Half way up its long white tail was a gold ball, and the 
end of its tail was dyed pink. During the review, a charger 
ridden by one of the Shah’s attendants suddenly bolted, pitching 
its rider over its head, and he lay stunned till he was carried 
away. We boys imagined that the Shah would have him promptly 

In 1876 I spent some time at Fontainebleau, of which I have 
given an account in Chapter XI of my Memoirs of Racing and 
Hunting, and was afterwards ‘crammed’ by Mr. Faithfull at 

In order to facilitate entrance to the Army, it was customary 
in those days to serve two annual trainings with a Militia Regi- 
ment. Then, having gained a certificate for drill and other simple 
mihtary matters, and passed the non-competitive Preliminary 
Examination, one was qualified to receive a commission. My 

saw the Shah again in 1889, a few days after my marriage. H.M. arrived by 
sea and landed at Westminster, where he was met by the Prince of Wales. I was in 
attendance as Master of the Horse, and H.R.H. presented my wife and me, ex- 
plaining that we had been lately married. I remember that the Shah failed to 
understand our names, and referred to my wife as ‘the Duchess of Porcelain’, 
which greatly amused the Prince of Wales. 


father therefore asked his first cousin, Lord Hatherton,^ to 
appoint me to the Staffordshire Militia, of which he was the 
Colonel. This he was kind enough to do, and I served my two 
trainings with that Regiment. The second-in-command. 
Colonel R. Dyott of Freeford Hall, near Lichfield, appeared to 
us subalterns to be a very old gentleman, though perhaps he 
was no more than fifty-five or sixty years of age. He was known 
as ‘old Dickie Dyott’. Another officer was Major Foster, 
afterwards, I beheve, a well-known Radical M.P. My Company 
Commander, Richard Wellesley, was a first cousin of both Lord 
Hatherton and my father ; and he was always very kind and 
helpful to me. 

Among visitors to the Mess, I remember Captain William 
Congreve, of Congreve, Co. Stafford, the father of Gen. Sir 
Walter Congreve, V.C., D.S.O. Sir Charles Wolseley, who was 
also a visitor, was a very smart man, a good rider, and one of the 
pioneers of polo in this country. 

I was sometimes invited to stay with Lord and Lady Hather- 
ton at Teddesley, a charming place on the borders of Cannock 
Chase, which was then a stretch of rough moorland, with many 
grouse, black game and other wild creatures. Lady Hatherton 
was very kind and gracious. She was a sister of the 6th Duke 
of Northumberland, who appeared to me to be rather a prim 
and austere old gentleman. One evening, I remember. Lord 
Hatherton asked me to make the fourth in a rubber of whist. 
Having played whist only about half a dozen times in my life, 
and that of a very ‘bumble-puppy’ kind, I did all I could to 
escape; but, as Lord Hatherton was my C.O. as well as my 
host, of course I had to obey his orders. On cutting, I found to 
my horror that I was the partner of the Duke of Northumberland. 
Being quite overcome by nervousness, I committed every fault, 
I believe, that a whist player can. I played my ace on his king, 
trumped his strongest suit and revoked more than once. Even 
when I was fortunate enough to take a trick, the Duke took 
exception to the untidy way in which I laid down the cards; 

^See Appendix I. 


and when the rubber was over, he pointed out to me all the 
crimes I had committed. From that moment I have loathed 
the very sight of cards; and I never afterwards ventured to try 
to play whist again, or any other game of skill. Perhaps, after 
all, he did me a good turn and prevented my losing money, 
for I certainly have no head for cards. 

I attended a ball given by Lord and Lady Shrewsbury at 
Ingestre Hall, near Stafford, at which I met the future Lady 
Londonderry and her sisters, and also a charming young lady, 
Miss St. Vincent Jervis, who went by the name of Bo-Peep, from 
the costume she had worn at a fancy dress ball some time be- 

In a letter to the late Duke of Portland’s sister. Lady Ossing- 
ton,^ written on December nth, 1877, Lord Hatherton was 
kind enough to say, ‘A finer or more promising young fellow 
than Arthur cannot readily be found, and any family may be 
proud of him. . . . He is naturally silent but has plenty of wits and 
common sense ; and passed an excellent examination the other 
day for admission into the Army. He has just been gazetted to 
the 84th Regiment (in which his father forty years ago began 
his military life), with the promise of an early appointment to 
the Coldstream Guards.’ 

Perhaps printing this may appear a little conceited; but be it 
remembered that I was only a boy of nineteen at the time. I 
fear I have greatly deteriorated since then ! 

The 84th (York and Lancaster) Regiment was then quar- 
tered at Sheffield, and it was at this time that I had my first 
sight of Welbeck, my future home. I was hunting with Lord 
Galway’s hounds in the neighbourhood, when he asked me, 
‘Would you like to see Welbeck? If so, follow me, and I will take 
you to a place from which you can see the house and the lake.’ 
He then led me to what is known as Roomwood where Welbeck 
Woodhouse, my son Titchfield’s home, now stands. 

^Lady Charlotte Bentinck, married (1827) John Evelyn Denison, afterwards 
Speaker of the House of Commons and created Viscount Ossin^ton. She died in 


After two or three months I was transferred to the ist Battalion 
of the Coldstream Guards, of which a distinguished old Crimean 
Officer, Colonel Julian Hall, C.B., was Commanding Officer, 
and Captain the Hon. R. Campbell^ the very smart and strict 

Colonel Hall was known in his youth as ‘Long Hall’, from his 
great height and the unusual length of his legs and his feet. 
When a subaltern, he was quartered at the Tower of London ; 
and his friends, after seeing the architectural and historical 
glories of the building, were shown JuHan Hall’s Wellington 
boots, as being the chief modem wonder of the Tower! There 
was a caricature of him in the Regimental Drag Book, riding at a 
thick fence ; and in this his feet were shown appearing through 
the fence before his horse had jumped. 

Colonel Wigram, commonly known as ‘Old Wiggie’, was 
second in command. Hall and he were both gallant, old 
Crimean Officers. Wiggie was accustomed to order a large glass 
of port wine at the Guards’ Club, while Colonel ‘Bogey’ White 
of the Scots Guards often asked for a large glass of brown 
sherry. The disrespectful subalterns therefore nicknamed these 
dr inks a Wiggie and a ^ogey, and the waiters quite understood 
what was wanted when they were ordered by these names. I need 
hardly say that this did not occur when Colonel Wigram or 
Colonel White was present. 

As I have said, Captain the Hon. Ronald Campbell, gener- 
ally known as ‘Rowdy Campbell’, was Adjutant of the ist 
Battalion. It was wonderful to see the way in which the Battalion 

lY ounger son of the second ££irl Cawdor. He was afterwards on the staffof General 
Sir Evelyn Wood, who commanded in South Africa during the Zulu War. At one 
timp Sir Evelyn and his staff were heavily fired upon by a large party of Zulus who 
were hidden among the rocks on a neighbouring hill. Captain Campbell was sent 
with another of Sir Evelyn’s A.D.C.’s, Captain Lysons, the son of Sir Daniel 
Lysons, Q..M.G. at the Horse Guards, to organise an attack on the position; but 
when they approached it they found the task most dangerous, as many of the 
Zulus were in a cave with a very narrow mouth. Campbell led the attack on the 
cave, and was killed almost at once. Lysons carried on, cleared out the Zulus and 
received the V.C. for his bravery. Campbell’s son, Colonel John Campbell of the 
Coldstream Guards, was awarded the V.C. during the Great War; and his 
grandson is now in the Coldstream too. 


drilled for him when he was in command. The junior officers 
found him rather alarming on parade; but every one of us had 
the greatest admiration for him, both as a soldier and as a man. 

I think he was one of the smartest and best-looking men I ever 
saw in any walk of life. 

I went to Epsom Races for the first time with Campbell. 
After parade one day, he said, ‘Have you ever been to Epsom? 
You can come with me if you like. Hurry up and change into 
plain clothes.’ We travelled down in a crowded special train, 
in a third-class compartment with some three-card-trick shar- 
pers. When the train started, they produced their cards and 
invited us to bet. Rowdy demanded to examine the' cards and 
was at first refused ; but he put an end to that, and when the pack 
was handed to him he threw it out of the window. The men, per- 
haps not unnaturally, became very abusive; but Rowdy soon 
subdued them, and ended by kicking the last of them out of the 
carriage at Epsom Station. Personally I was much relieved 
when our journey came to an end. I never saw one man exert 
so much influence over five others ; but Rowdy was capable of 
dealing with anybody, and would undoubtedly have risen to 
the highest rank in the Army, had he survived. 

Campbell was succeeded as Adjutant by Captain the Hon. 
H. Legge, a very smart and good soldier, and much loved 
by everyone. I think he was Adjutant for no less than seven 
years. He married Miss Amy Lambart of Beau Parc, Co. 
Meath, a Maid of Honour to Queen Victoria, and in 1893 was 
appointed Equerry, which office he held under successive 
Sovereigns until his death in 1924. He remained my lifelong 
friend, and was often my guest for shooting. He amused me very 
much, especially one day when we were partridge-driving, 
because he persisted, against my wishes, in shooting at any 
pheasant which came over; and the excuse he made was, ‘I’m 
sure you won’t mind, old chap. I get so little shooting in the 
season that I can’t help firing at everything I see, by way of 
practice!’ My recollection is, however, that the pheasants 
suffered very little from his ardour, and the partridges still less 1 


Another rather remarkable brother-ofl5.cer ,was Colonel 
Mark Lockwood, rejoicing under the somewhat obvious nick- 
name of ‘Timber’ Wood. His father, General W. N. Wood, who 
changed his name from Lockwood on succeeding to an estate, 
was a prominent figure on the Turf before my time, and an inti- 
mate friend of Admiral Rous and Mr, George Payne. Colonel 
Lockwood made no special mark as a soldier ; but, after leaving 
the Regiment, he became a very well-known and popular 
member of the House of Commons, in which he represented 
the Epping Division of Essex for twenty-five years. In later life 
he was raised to the peerage as Lord Lambourne. He was re- 
nowned for his geniality and occasionally rather caustic wit. 
Someone said that he rather reminded him of a cat — ^stroke him 
gently, and he was like velvet; but look out for a scratch from 
his claws when occasion arose! His greatest interest in Hfe, I 
think, was in gardening. I remember taking the chair at a meet- 
ing of the Gardeners’ Benevolent Institution, at which the 
Prince of Wales (afterwards King Edward VIH) was the chief 
guest, though it seemed to me that Colonel Lockwood was 
quite as much so as H.R.H. He said to me, ‘I daresay, when you 
were lucky enough to win the Derby twice, you achieved one of 
the ambitions of your life. I also did so, a few days ago, when I 
won the first prize for orchids at the Royal Horticultural 
Society’s Show. Perhaps my success cost a great deal less 
money than yours. Anyway, let’s cry quits and have a glass of 
wine together: for we have both brought new honours to the 
Coldstream Guards!’ 

Simpson was Sergeant Major. He was afterwards appointed 
Quartermaster of the Battahon and, later still, agent at Amport 
to my old friend Lord Winchester, who first served in the Cold- 
stream as Lord Wiltshire, and was killed at the battle of Magers- 
fontein. Sergeant Spackman was one of the Drill Sergeants. 
A a splendid example of the well-drilled Guardsman, he pos- 
sessed one of the most terrific voices I have ever heard. We 
called him ‘Boanerges’ Spackman, and he made all the young 
officers and recruits jump out of their skins w’hen he drilled 



them. When we young officers came on parade, he saluted 
us with great respect; but when we were in the ranks, he 
addressed us by numbers, treating us just as he did the other 
recruits. Directly we fell out we were treated as officers 
again, and Spackman, having saluted, asked permission to dis- 
miss the parade. I was much struck by this when I joined the 
Battalion. It explains much of the wonderful discipline of the 
Coldstream Guards and, indeed, of the whole British Army. 

I joined the ist Battalion at the Tower of London on May 
25th, 1878. From there, when the Army Reserve was called up 
because of a threat of war with Russia, we went to Eastbourne 
for special musketry training. The Guards Detachment was 
commanded by Captain ‘Chang’ Romilly of the Scots Guards, 
always a keen, and afterwards a distinguished, soldier. The men 
of the Reserve who had been called up were, for the most part, 
old Militiamen, and their idea of discipline was not a very high 
one. They had many differences of opinion among themselves, 
which led more than once to personal encounters. 

I remember a most amusing occasion when about half a 
dozen men appeared before Captain Romilly, some of them 
with black eyes. Romilly enquired the reason for this, and was 
told that there was a dispute about the ownership of a conger- 
eel which one of the men had caught. A large bag was produced 
and in a moment a full-sized and extremely lively conger-eel, 
with a fish-hook still in its mouth, escaped from it on to the floor. 
It leaped about all over the room, snapping its powerfiiJ jaws, 
and ready to bite Captain Romilly or anyone else it met. 
Romilly and the others, however ready they were to fight 
Russians, were not prepared to face an enraged conger-eel, 
even with a hook in its mouth. Romilly at once jumped on to 
a chair, as did everyone else who was present. However, re- 
inforcements were summoned, and the unfortunate eel received 
the coup de grdce. By this time the dispute was forgotten in laugh- 
ter. The culprits were dismissed with a caution, and warned 
not to quarrel over conger-eels or anything else in future. 

While I was at Eastbourne, Prince Louis of Hesse and his 


wife Princess Alice, Queen Victoria’s second daughter, were in 
residence at Compton Place, which had been lent to them by 
the Duke of Devonshire. Their most lovely daughter. Princess 
Elizabeth (Ella),^ was with them, and we were invited to tea 
and to play lawn tennis in the gardens. Prince and Princess 
Louis’s other charming children were there too; one of them 
afterwards married Prince Henry of Prussia and another the 
late Czar of Russia. They were a most delightful family, and 
we all lost our hearts to the daughters. 

When the scare of war with Russia was over, we returned to 
the Tower. From there we proceeded to the Victoria Barracks at 
Windsor, then to Wellington Barracks, and on to Shornchffe. 
One night when I had gone to bed in my quarters at Windsor, 
and was falling asleep, I heard a great noise on the landing out- 
side my room. I said to myself, T shouldn’t be surprised to find 
myself in my tub’ — ^which was full of water ready for the next 
morning — ‘in a few minutes.’ Nobody seemed to trouble about 
me, however, so I opened my door a few inches and looked out. 
There I saw a tremendous bear-fight taking place between two 
of my senior brother-officers. Captain Pole-Carew,® and Captain 
Codrington.® PoUy Carew was ragging Coddy, who was a much 
bigger and more powerful man than himself Coddy made a 
sudden spring for Polly, who evaded him, seized the tail of his 
nightshirt and pulled it over his head. Coddy thereupon fell 
down, and Polly proceeded to pull him downstairs, out through 
the door and over the gravel on to the grass in the middle of the 
barrack square. There the button of his nightshirt gave way, 
and poor old Coddy ran back to his quarters in his birthday 
suit, as hard as he could go. Fortunately it was pitch dark at the 
time, and nothing more was heard of it. 

^Princess Elizabeth, who I think was one of the most beautiful women I have 
seen, afterwards married the Grand Duke Serge of Russia, whom she survived. 
She was horribly murdered by the Bolsheviks at Moscow in 1918. 

^Afterwards Lt-General Sir R. Pole-Garew, K.G.B. He died in 1924. For 
further mention of him, see Ghapters V and VIII. 

®Now Lt.-General Sir A. E. Godrington, G.G.V.O., K.G.B., D.S.O., Golonel 
of the Goldstream Guards. 


My old friend Lord Harlech reminds me that, when in the 
Coldstream, we went through rather a rough time at Lydd and 
Dungeness. With two full companies, wearing our bearskins, red 
coats and tight belts, we marched the best part of twenty long, 
flat and weary miles from ShorncHffe Camp to Lydd on a hot 
day at the end of September. When we arrived at that extremely 
stony, dreary and windy spot, we found nothing prepared for us 
— not even drinks for the men. The advance party had tried to 
erect the tents ; but these were blown over as soon as they were 
put up, and the only available accommodation was one small 
cottage, which the Regimental cook at once claimed as his own. 

We spent the whole of the first day pitching our bell-tents, but 
these were blown over as fast as we put them up, until we pro- 
cured some long iron stakes from the local blacksmith, for use 
instead of the ordinary tent-pegs. There was only a thin cover- 
ing of grass over the shingle ; so even with these it was difficult 
to keep the tents from being blown down. One night, the large 
marquee used as a canteen for the men blew clean over. The 
canteen sergeant, who slept in it, was overwhelmed in the 
ruins, and had to be cut out in a squashed and half suffocated 
condition. The guard tent, in which there was a drunk prisoner, 
blew over too ; and the man became so violent that he had to 
be ‘pegged out’ to keep him safe. 

The object of our visit was to make experiments in musketry. 
It seems that during the siege of Plevna, which had just taken 
place, the Turkish troops greatly harassed the Russian invaders 
by what was called ‘vertical rifle-fire’, especially at night. Their 
method was to place stakes with white marks on them, which 
were plainly visible in the dark, and the men, lying down, were 
instructed to aim at the marks, by this means dropping bullets 
every night all over the Russian camp behind the hills. In order 
to test this method of firing, large diagrams were drawn on 
the sands, and when night came the men were ordered to fire in 
this manner at very long range. On the following morning 
we marked off the bullet-holes on paper diagrams. Alas, the 
first time we carried out the experiment, someone had made a 


miscalculation ; for the tide came in during the night, and our 
sand-diagrams were completely submerged. Another instance 
of ‘Time and tide will wait for no man’ ! Afterwards the tests 
were more successful, and they may even have been the means 
of introducing a new form of rifle-fire. 

Another experiment, also made at night, was firing through 
rows and rows of paper targets, extending for nearly a mile 
along the shingle. We also had an embryonic form of quick- 
firing gun, which I believe was known as a mitrailleuse. Whatever 
its right name may have been, the men called it by quite another 
— especially as many of them pinched their fingers in the 
mechanism, which, after a few rounds, became too hot to use 
or touch. In the end, an enterprising drummer boy who had 
been ordered to clean it filled it with sand. That, I believe, was 
the end of our unfortunate mitrailleuse. 

Beyond these paper targets, there was a very large and high 
butt, lighted by a lantern at the end of a pole. One night, an- 
other subaltern and myself were ordered to go to the marker’s 
shelter pit at the butt, and when we were safely there to ex- 
tinguish the lantern. When the light went out, the order to fire 
was to be given. Imagine our horror, when, as we were making 
our painful and doleful way over the shingle, and were still 
some distance from our goal, the lantern was suddenly ex- 
tinguished by a gust of wind. We went as fast as ever we could, 
and, when still fifteen or twenty yards from our goal, the bugle 
sounded the ‘Fire’. We threw ourselves into the shelter-pit just 
in time, blown to the world, and heard the bullets hitting the 
butt aU round. I have never been under fire since; but, from 
our experience then, I can well imagine how disagreeable it 
must be. 

Our progress over the miles of shingle was made on what were 
locally known as back-stays — ^flat boards, with loops through 
which one put one’s feet, and in which one shufiled along as on 
snow-shoes. Without the help of these clumsy afiairs, walking on 
the shingle was not only extremely difficult, but very destructive 
to one’s shooting-boots and one’s temper. Lydd was indeed a 


damnable place, particularly during the equinoctial gales in 
September and October. Its one redeeming feature was a lovely 
Norman church, which we attended on Sundays. The officers 
were ushered with great pomp into an old-fashioned, high pew, 
which fortunately had a fireplace; and I remember that the 
Prayer Books had Jurats of Lydd stamped on their covers. 

One day a distinguished officer of the Royal Engineers, 
General Sir John Stokes, paid us a visit. On his way home in the 
dark he missed his footing on a plank over a stream, fell in, had 
a good ducking, and was extremely short-tempered all that 
evening. The place went by the name of Stokes’s Hole during the 
rest of our time at Lydd. 

We were shown a field, about half a mile from the open sea, 
into which it was said that a small vessel had been blown during 
a gale. Whether we believed it or no, I cannot remember at 
this distance of time. But I do remember that we were thorough- 
ly glad when our very stormy month at Lydd came to an end. 

In those days, the’Guards’ Club had been situated for many 
years, as it was for a long time afterwards, in PaU Mall, next to 
Marlborough House. The officers on guard at St. James’s Palace 
were allowed to go to the Club in the afternoon, of course in uni- 
form, as they were still what was termed ‘within sight of the 
sentries’; though, unless they were sunning themselves in the 
large bow-window, they could certainly not see the sentries, 
nor the sentries see them. However, they conformed with the 
regulations. It was not an altogether comfortable privilege, as 
one had to keep one’s sword-belt buckled all the time. We 
were even allowed to have our hair cut in a shop situated in a 
Httle court off Pall Mall; but this was certainly stretching a 
point, for it is impossible for even a Guards’ sentry to see through 
several brick walls ! However, it was allowed, or at least winked 
at ; and no doubt it was better for an officer to appear with well- 
cut hair than with locks hanging down his back, thereby 
incurring the wrath of the C.O., the Adjutant and the senior 

I believe that, about this time, a move was made to buy the 


Coldstream Guairds, 1878 

Back: Lord Lambton. 

Front: C. D. Fortescue, R. Pole-Caxew and the Star, Hon. H. G. Legge. 

building opposite White’s Club, once Grockford’s and now the 
Devonshire Club, which would still have been in sight of the 
sentries ; but it came to nothing. Now that the Guards’ Club has 
been moved to Brook Street, I am afraid it cannot claim to be 
within sight of sentries, either at St. James’s Palace or anywhere 
else in London: so one more of the pleasant old customs has gone, 
and officers on guard can no longer enjoy the change from a 
stuffy room and the limited society of two brother-officers, both 
possibly suffering from a touch of liver caused by the ex- 
cellent dinner and wine provided by the authorities ! 

This mention of sentries reminds me of another little epi- 
sode which occurred while I was quartered at Windsor. Lieu- 
tenant and Captain Pole-Garew (I believe he was the last officer 
in the Coldstream to have the double rank) was the proud 
owner of a mongrel pet with the head of a fox-terrier and the 
tail of a pug. Its name was The Star, which was also the nick- 
name of Colonel Boscawen, Lord Falmouth’s eldest son. But to 
cut the cackle and come to the story: Captain Pole-Garew was 
on guard at Windsor Castle. The faithful and beautiful Star 
followed the guard from the Victoria Barracks. During the in- 
spection of the sentries within the Castle precincts the Relief, 
commanded by Captain Pole-Carew, entered the private 
gardens, where Queen Victoria was sitting in a bath-chair, with 
John Brown in attendance and two beautiful sable coUies by her 
side. To Polly Carew’s horror, he found that The Star was still 
following. Directly the collies saw The Star they flew at him 
and a free fight began. The Star seized the white ruff round 
the neck of one of the collies; John Brown rushed after the 
struggling dogs, throwing sticks, cushions and other handy 
missiles at them, with a torrent of curses delivered in broad 
Scots ; and Her Majesty was seen actively gesticulating from her 
bath-chair, though any remarks she may have made did not 
reach Polly Carew’s ears. I have no doubt he became con- 
veniently deaf on that occasion. Polly and the Relief, of course, 
marched on, he with a set face, hoping desperately that The Star 
would not be connected with him, but would be taken for some 


stray mongrel cur from the purlieus of Windsor (as from his 
3,ppearance might well have been the case) 5 of evil habits 
and quite unaccustomed to the society of Royal dogs. But the 
valiant Star, having pulled a great tuft of hair from the ruff of 
one of the colKes and escaped from the missiles and curses of 
John Brown, rushed after the guard, with the hair sticking out 
of his mouth, and bounded around Polly in triumph. 

That evening, the Colonel of the BattaHon received a rightly 
indignant letter from Sir Henry Ponsonby, Queen Victoria’s 
private secretary, expressing Her IVlajesty’s grave displeasure at 
the unseemly interruption of her siesta and the cruel treatment 
which her dear colHes had received, and saying it was Her 
Majesty’s command that, in future, no Officer of the Guards 
should be accompanied by a dog while going his rounds. Polly 
Carew received a few words of, no doubt, excellent advice from 
the Colonel, and was told to write a letter of humble apology' 
to Sir Henry, making a request that it might later be pre- 
sented to Her Majesty. The letter was written, and not only was 
Polly forgiven, but within the next week or two he received a 
command to dine with Her Majesty. After this Polly never 
seemed to look back in his profession ; and we often chaffed him 
that his success in life was originally due to the outrageous con- 
duct of The Star. 

This gallant officer’s subsequent career was very remarkable. 
He served on the staff of Lord Roberts during the famous march 
to Kandahar. During the Egyptian campaign against Arabi, in 
1882, he was on the staff of the Duke of Cormaught, and was of 
course present at the various battles. He was then appointed to 
the staff of Lord Dufferin, at that time Viceroy of India, and 
was transferred as an A.D.C. to Lord Roberts, with whom he 
served during the annexation of Burma. He was later appointed 
to Lord Roberts’s staff in South Africa, and received an im- 
portant command in pursuit of the Boers. During the Great War 
he was too old to serve at the Front, but did his duty manfully 
and well at home. The most lucky feature of his career was, of 
course, his marriage to Lady Beatrice Butler, and the fact that 


Lord Roberts, who liked and admired him greatly, never omit- 
ted to give him a helping hand. 

I have already written, in Chapter XI of my Memories of 
Racing and Hunting, a short account of the sport we had with the 
Regimental Drag Hounds. I now reprpduce a photograph of 
some of those who attended a luncheon, given to a few farmers 
in the Windsor district, over whose land the Drag hunted 
during the season of 1878-9. 

Taking the names in the lower group from left to right, Edgar 
Sebright was afterwards the twelfth Baronet, and died in 1933; 
Mr. Oliphant was a farmer; A. C. Jervoise, eifterwards Sir A. 
Clarke Jervoise, third Bt., of Idsworth, Co. Southampton, died 
in 1902; Sutton, nicknamed ‘the Stalk’, died during the Sudan 
campaign in 1885. Of Colonel Julian Hall and the Hon. H. 
Legge (Whip), I have already written at length. Colonel Waller- 
Otway was the Master and Huntsman ; A. B. Myers, commonly 
known as Jimmy Myers, was the Regimental Doctor; standing 
behind him is ‘Coddy’, now Lt.-General Sir A. E. Codrington, 
G.C.V.O., K.C.B., D.S.O., Colonel of the Coldstream; and 
next to him is myself. I may say that I had recently had a bad 
fall with the Drag, when my horse kicked me in the face — that 
is why I appear with a black eye, in imdress uniform, and not 
in hunting kit. While my eye was still black, I tried to hire a 
horse from Charlie Wise; but he said, ‘No, I’ll only sell it to you, 
not hire it. You’ve blacked your own eye, and I’m not going to 
let you do the same to my horse !’ 

Continuing up the staircase. Colonel Follett, who took a 
First in Law and Modern History at Oxford before he joined 
the Army, commanded the 2nd Battalion of the Coldstream; 
‘Taffy’ Wynn, nephew and heir of Sir Watkin Wynn, was un- 
fortunately drowned in the Thames two years later, when 
attempting to shoot the weir below Windsor Bridge in a punt; 
Lady Julia Follett was a daughter of the second Lord Ailsa; 
Harry (Toby) Wickham married Lady Ethelreda Gordon, 
and was sometime Master of the Fitzwilliam Hounds ; Charlie 
Wise was a very well-known horse-dealer at Eton, from whom 


we hired our hunters ; and the Messrs. Headington were farmers, 
both very kind supporters of the Drag Hounds. 

Captain the Hon. Miles Stapleton, afterwards the tenth Lord 
Beaumont and Lt.-Colonel commanding the 20th Hussars, was 
known as ‘Inches’ — ^an obvious nickname from his extreme want 
of them. 

Colonel and Lady JuUa Follett were both extremely hard 
riders, but were so short-sighted as to be rather dangerous in 
the hunting field. The Drag Hounds held one of their meets at 
Surley Hall, and the second fence was a large open ditch called 
the Bone. Lady Julia went to the far side of it, and waited there 
for the hounds to cross. Tom Cochrane, now Lord Cochrane 
of Cults, was the first over it, and I came second. At the next 
fence, just as poor Cochrane’s horse was taking off, Lady 
Juha crashed into him, and knocked him and his horse head 
over heels into the next field. Without stopping, she galloped 
on with the hounds. At the check in the middle of the run, I 
said to Lady Juha, ‘Do you know that you knocked poor Tom 
Cochrane clean head over heels?’ ‘No !’ she repHed, looking very 
surprised, ‘I had no idea.’ ‘But surely’, I said, ‘you must have 
known. It was at the second fence.’ ‘Oh! Was that Tom 
Cochrane?’ she said, looking more astonished than ever, ‘I 
really didn’t know what it was! I do hope he isn’t hurt.’ At that 
moment Cochrane rode up, none the worse for his fall and joined 
in the general laughter. He is a neighbour of my daughter in 
Fife, and told her not long ago how well he remembered this 

A ciuious accident happened to me at Aldershot, shortly be- 
fore I left the Coldstream. In company with a friend, I was 
riding a polo pony; and, as we were cantering along, it suddenly 
bolted. Being near the flat racecourse, I guided the pony on to 
it, gave him a whack with my cane, and said, ‘Now, you brute, 
run away as fast and as far as you Hke!’ To my horror, I saw 
there was a bag-chain across the course a Httle way ahead. I did 
my best to stop the pony or to guide it out of the corurse, but 
could do neither; and I said to myself, ‘Now we’re for it!’ The 


chain hit the pony on the top of his head, which was nearly 
touching the ground, and then flew up his neck, caught me 
across the arms and chest, and sent me flying from his back 
as if I had been shot from a catapult. I soon jumped up, 
shaken but not really hurt, as I thought at the moment ; and 
in the meantime my friend had caught the pony and brought 
it back. I got on to its back again, and said we would 
continue our ride. A quarter of an hour later, however, every- 
thing went black and I fell off; nor do I remember any- 
thing imtil I found myself in bed. Being young and in very 
good health, I quickly recovered, though I did not throw off the 
effects of the accident completely for several months. I think I 
was very lucky, in the first place because the pony did not fall 
over the chain, and secondly, in not having my neck broken by 
the chain itself, when it flung me off. 

In spite of, or perhaps because of, such little episodes as the 
bear-fight between Polly and Coddy, the Coldstream was a 
very happy home for everybody. Many of the friends I then 
made remained my friends for life. Though we young officers 
were rightly kept under strict discipline and made, I hope, to 
behave like gentlemen, nobody was ever bullied or ill treated 
unless he thoroughly deserved correction. I am in every way 
thankful that I was lucky enough to spend two years in that 
splendid Regiment, and I believe no better school could be 
found for young men of all classes. My only regret is that, owing 
to the circumstances under which I left the Coldstream, I never 
had the opportunity of seeing any active service with the Regi- 
ment, in the campaigns in which it has so highly distinguished 
itself. I am specially proud to have been the President of the 
Sheffield Branch of the Old Coldstreamers’ Association for the 
last twelve years, and to be so still; and I look upon the Cold- 
stream parties at Welbeck as the most pleasant of the year. 

About the time I joined the Coldstream in 1878, Colonel 
Fremantle was in the chair at a dinner of the NuUi Secxmdus, 
the Regimental dining club in London. He proposed the health 
of the oldest Coldstreamer in the room, and a tall, slim, aristo- 


cratic-looking old gentleman, with white hair and a white 
moustache, rose to reply. He was the then Lord Stradbroke, 
brother of the famous Admiral Rous and father of the present 
Lord Stradbroke, Lady Augusta Fane and others. Lord Strad- 
broke thanked everybody for so kindly drinking his health, and 
went on to say that he was very proud of having served in 
the Coldstream Guards as a young man. ‘I am also’, he con- 
tinued, ‘very proud to have been present with the Regiment 
at the famous battle of Quatre Bras; but unfortunately I was 
wounded, and so was unable to be present at the much more 
famous batde which was fought on the following day — I mean 
the battle at which the great Duke of Wellington commanded 
the Allied Army, when it defeated the French under the Em- 
peror Napoleon; but’, said Lord Stradbroke, ‘you must excuse 
a temporary lapse of memory by an old man, for I cannot re- 
member its name.’ Someone said, ‘Waterloo.’ ‘Waterloo — of 
course, Waterloo! How foolish of me not to remember!’ I think 
that is a most interesting link with the past. ^ I see from the 
Peerage that Lord Stradbroke was bom in 1794, so he was 
twenty-one when Quatre Bras and Waterloo were fought. 

When the late Duke of Portland died in December, 1 879, I 
called on Colonel Wigram to ask for leave ; but he was out, so I 
left a message with his soldier servant. When Colonel Wigram 
returned, the servant said to him, ‘Mr. Bentinck called this 
afternoon about going on leave. I’m afraid he couldn’t have 
been quite correct,^ Sir, because he said he was the Duke of 
Portland!’ This story was all over the Guards’ Club by the 
following day. 

^This reminds me of another link with the still more distant past. The late Lord 
Lovat told me that his father, who was bom in 1 828 and whom I knew, remembered 
an old woman living in Glen Strath Farrar, not far from Beaufort, who had seen 
what she termed the ‘Red Goats’ firing on the Jacobite H i ghlanders in the adjacent 
hills, after the battle of Ciilloden. As the pursuit of the rebels continued, I believe, 
for some years after GuUoden, the old woman need not have been more than 
eighty-eight or eighty-nine when Lord Lovat saw her. His brother, Henry (Pope) 
Fraser, said that he also had seen an old woman near Kingussie, who could 
remember the same thing, 
soldier’s term for sober. 


Soon after my succession, some of my brother-oflScers said to 
me, ‘So you are going on leave? Mind you don’t come back 
with coronets branded all over you, for we shall kick them jolly 
hard if you do!’ I have never had much liking for coronets 
since then, nor any temptation to scatter them over my pos- 

Another good thing I learned in the Coldstream was never to 
call people ‘ by their Christian names or nicknames unless I 
knew them fairly well. I remember a severe but well-deserved 
snub being given to some young fellow who was continually 
speaking of Tom This and Jack That. Rowdy Campbell said to 
him one day, ‘Do you know Tom B.?’ ‘No.’ ‘Then’, said 
Campbell, ‘why the devil don’t you call him Lord B.?’ 

When I had just succeeded to the Dukedom, one of my senior 
brother-officers said, ‘Look here, young fellow, you’ll be able to 
amuse yourself more or less as you hke now. My advice to you 
is, be a bit of a jack-of-all-trades. Don’t just stick to hunting and 
sport, but try and enjoy everything as it comes. Always inter- 
sperse your pleasure with business, and then things that might 
otherwise bore you will act as spice to your enjoyment.’ I have 
tried to take his advice, and have always found it excellent ; for 
it seems to me to be the best way of enjoying, not only sport, but 
life as a whole. 



O n December 5th, 1879, as I was passing through Lon- 
don for my first long leave, from Shomcliffe, where the 
1st Battalion of the Coldstream was then quartered, I 
received a note from our family lawyer, Mr. E. Horsman 
Bailey, telling me that the Duke of Portland was lying seriously 
ill at Harcourt House in Cavendish Square, and advising me 
not to go far away. On the following morning I heard that 
the Duke had died during the night, and that Mr. Bailey would 
call upon me immediately. At this distance of time I may con- 
fess that my first feeling was tinged with disappointment, be- 
cause I badly wanted to spend my leave hunting in the 
Vale of Aylesbury. The Duke was my first cousin once 
removed. I had never seen him in his lifetime, though I did see 
him after his death; and I naturally could not feel any deep 
personal regret for his decease. 

When Mr. Bailey came, he told me that the Duke had left me 
everything he possibly could. I should explain that, by the 
Duke’s wish, I had re-entailed the estates when I came of age on 
December 28th, 1878, a year after my father’s death; and he 
then not only made me an allowance for the maintenance of 
myself, my stepmother and my half-brothers and sister, but 
gave me sufficient money to buy the lease of 13 Grosvenor 
Place, into which they were about to move at the time of his 
death, and also a personal present, some of which, I am afraid, 
went on the purchase of three or four hunters. 

So, good-bye to hunting for the moment; and I remained in 
London with my stepmother. 

This seems a suitable place to mention the notorious and 


foolish Druce case, though it did not take place until 1907: so 
perhaps I had better dispose of it now. I need only say that, 
following the wise advice of Mr. Bailey, whose firm had acted 
for my family for nearly a hundred years and therefore knew all 
about my predecessor, I treated it with supreme contempt. It 
arose from the hallucinations of a crazy woman, repudiated by 
the reputable members of her own family, who was encouraged 
by sensation-loving journalists, anxious to exploit the attraction 
likely to be felt by credulous and foolish people for a coffin and a 
long-buried corpse. 

The imposture was taken seriously, unfortunately for them- 
selves, by a considerable number of people, many of whom 
ought to have known better ; and they went so far as to float a 
Company in support of the Druce claims. The shares were so 
widely taken up that, during a ball in the underground rooms 
at Welbeck, one of my guests was pointed out to me as being a 
shareholder. I am afraid I cannot pretend to be sorry that those 
who invested in the Company lost their money. 

In a letter which I received from the late Lord Rosebery in 
January 1908, he put the whole business in a nutshell. He 
wrote, ‘I want, however, to trouble you once more on that pre- 
posterous Druce conspiracy. The only puzzling point about it is 
how it ever came into existence. In the Tichborne case there 
was at least a mad old woman who wanted to recognise some- 
body as her son, and so there was an obvious starting point. But 
in your case there is nothing. The late Duke burrowed a good 
deal, no doubt — ^but not in the direction of any warehouse. And 
we might as well expect to hear that the late Duke of West- 
minster was Snelgrove.’ After that it seems to me there is no- 
thing more to be said ! 

But now let me resume my story. When we proposed to go to 
Welbeck we were told by Mr. F. J. Turner, the resident agent, ^ 

^Mr, Turner had been appointed agent for the English estates by the late Dxikcj 
only a year before. He had formerly been resident agent in Ayrshire, and lived at 
The Dene, Kilmarnock. I cannot speak too highly of him. He was a valued friend 
and most wise adviser, and remained in charge of my affairs until his death in 
1906 at the age of eighty-two. 


that we could not do so with any comfort, because access to the 
Abbey was almost impossible owing to the alterations in pro- 
gress at the time of the Duke’s death, and the house itself was 
completely dismantled. The furniture from 13 Grosvenor 
Place was therefore sent down immediately, and we all — ^my 
stepmother, Henry, William, Charles, Ottoline and I — arrived 
at Welbeck a few days before Christmas. Ottoline has very 
kindly written an excellent account of our arrival, for which I 
am most grateful; and, as my recollection is the same as hers, I 
insert it here in her own words : 

‘We travelled from King’s Cross Station in a saloon carriage, 
arriving at Worksop Station on a dark, windy, winter evening. 
Outside there was a little crowd of people waiting to see the 
“young Duke” arrive. Their white faces and dark clothes caught 
the light of the old dim oil lamps as they pressed round the 
door of the very old-fashioned carriage. My little brother 
Charlie, who was ill with peritonitis, had to be lifted carefully 
into a second carriage. Then came what seemed to me a long, 
dreary drive to Welbeck, till at last we arrived at the house. The 
front drive was a grass-grown morass covered with builders’ 
rubbish, and to enable the carriage to reach the front door they 
had put down temporary planks. The hall inside was without a 
floor, and temporary boardings had been laid down to enable us 
to. enter. 

‘Why the house had been allowed to get into this state I do 
not really know, except that the late Duke was so absorbed with 
his vast work of building and digging out the underground 
rooms and tunnels that he was oblivious of everything else. He 
pursued this hobby without any idea of beauty, a lonely self- 
isolated man. The secret^ of his life of isolation has never been 
disclosed. It was perhaps an inherited peculiarity from his mo- 
ther, which gradually overcame him, for in his youth he lived a 
normal life in London society, and he was for a short time 

^If there was any secret, which I much doubt, I believe it arose merely from 
constitutional shyness, Mr. Turner told me that the Duke was an extremely hand- 
some, kind and clever man. P. 


(Sir E. Boehm, 1880) 

Dean of Lismore 
(H. R. Pinker, 1885) 

member of Parliament for King’s Lynn and at his death was 
still President of the Nottingham Liberal Association. 

‘His love of building tunnels came perhaps from an exagger- 
ated desire for privacy. Even round the garden of Harcourt 
House, where he Hved in London, he erected high glass screens 
so that he could not be overlooked; and when he travelled he 
never left his own carriage, but had it placed on a railway truck 
on the train and kept the green silk blind tightly down. 

‘We were met in the front hall by Mr. F. J. Turner, the agent: 
the heads of departments — ^the steward, a tall Scotsman, 
named McCallum; the clerk of the works, Tinker; and some 
others. After a short talk we were taken up to the only rooms 
that were habitable in this huge house. The late Duke had lived 
in four or five rooms opening into each other in the west wing 
of the Abbey. Our little family party, all dressed in black, 
were solemnly ushered to these rooms, which were scantily, 
indeed almost, poorly furnished, and my brother Charlie was 
put to bed. 

‘Next day began the journey of discovery of the house. The 
rooms that we were living in had double sets of brass letter 
boxes in the doors, one in and the other out. Two of these rooms 
were charming, a large west room and a little room known as 
the North Closet adjoining. The old house had been built on the 
foundations of a Norman Abbey by Sir Charles Cavendish, the 
third son of Bess of Hardwick, and added to by Henrietta 
Cavendish -Harley, Countess of Oxford, and her daughter 
Margaret (Prior’s ‘lovely little Peggy’) who married the second 
Duke of Portland and brought Welbeck into the Bentinck 
family. In later life she became a great collector of antiques, 
being a very cultivated woman and one of the leading blue- 
stockings.. It was in these rooms and in another adjoining (now 
no longer in existence) that she and Mrs. Delany sat together 
to embroider and talk. 

‘The other rooms in the house were absolutely bare and 
empty. They were all painted pink, with parquet floors, and all 
bare and without furniture except that almost every room had a 



'‘convenience’ in the corner, quite exposed and not sheltered in 
any way. The drawing rooms were high. The late Duke had 
abolished a floor of bedrooms to make them more lofty, but no 
furniture or pictures were to be seen — they were all swept and 
garnished. At last in a large vaulted hall, decorated rather 
beautifully in Strawberry Hill Gothic by Lady Oxford in 1751, 
we found a great array of beautiful cabinets and furniture, all 
more or less in a state of disrepair. 

‘Then on by an underground passage and up through a trap 
door into the building that had originally been William 
Cavendish, Duke of Newcastle’s riding school, ^ now lined by 
the late Duke with mirrors, and with crystal chandeliers hang- 
ing from every comer in the raftered roof. The roof itself was 
painted to represent the bright rosy hues of sunset. The sudden 
mood of gaiety that had made him decorate it as a ballroom 
must have soon faded, leaving the mock sunset to shine on the 
lonely figure reflected a hundred times in the mirrors around 
him. We found stacked here most of the pictures that had been 
collected or had come down from generation to generation. 
Many of them were without frames and stood two or three deep 
against high wooden rests. They were unnamed and apparently 
uncatalogued.2 The frames were hidden away elsewhere, I be- 
lieve in a store house. 

Tn a similar building opposite this, which had been the 
stables of the third Duke of Portland, were kitchens, scullery, 
larders, bakehouse, etc. There in the great kitchen the Duke’s 
perpetual chicken was always roasting on a spit, so that when- 
ever he should ring for it one should be ready roasted and in a 
fit state for eating. From this kitchen the food was lowered by a lift 
into a heated truck, which ran on rails through one of the under- 
ground passages into the house, a distance of about 150 yards. 

‘A branch tunnel from this took us to the great underground 

^Built in 1623 frona the designs of John Snuthson, who was also the architect of 
Bolsover Castle, and of Wollaton Hall, near Nottingham P. 

Various old catalogues were found at a later date. For an account of them, see 
the introduction to R. W. Goulding’s Catalogue of the Pictures at Welbeck etc. (Cam- 
bridge, 1936). P. 


(Violet Mianners, 1883) 

(J. Sant, 1883) 

rooms — three very large ones, and one that is quite immense, 
about i6o feet long and 6o feet wide. They also were painted 
pink, heated with hot air, and lit by mushroom-shaped skylights. 
These were level with the upper ground, so that by day the 
rooms were quite bright, and by night they could be lit by innu- 
merable glass gas-lit chandeliers. The floors were of parquet, 
but that in the big room was not yet finished, and there were 
wheelbarrows and shovels lying about in it. There was no 
beauty in these rooms — they were just vast, rather bare, empty 
rooms, and except for the top Hghting one would not have been 
aware that they were sunk in the earth. In fact, they were 
rooms built down, instead of being built up. 

‘Along the side of the three rooms ran a glass corridor with 
alcoves for statuary, but there was an entire absence of statues. 
Then back we came again to the house, through more under- 
ground passages. These also were lit by upper skyHghts, and 
gas at night. The passages near the house were beautifully dry 
and paved with stone. Leading out of them was a long tunnel for 
w^alking to the riding school and stables about half a mile 
distant, wide enough for two or three persons to walk abreast. It 
ran under the ground by the side of the ordinary road. On the 
other side of the road, also underground, was a somewhat 
rougher tunnel. This was for the use of the workmen. 

‘The collection of buddings — ^stables, riding school, dairy, 
coach stables, laundry, offices and another longer riding 
school with a tan gallop about a quarter of a mile in length — 
made a village in themselves. They were all built in the same 
grey stone, without any trees or gardens. The late Duke must 
have had a mania for size, for aU these buildings were exceed- 
ingly large. The riding school is, I believe, the second largest 
in the world. ^ As a child I was always proud to tell people that 
it had a copper roof, a wreath of painted bronze inside repre- 
senting oak leaves and squirrels, and 4,000 gas jets to hght it up 
at night. 

^The largest, which I saw when I visited Russia, was in Moscow, It was said to be 
capable of holding two cavalry regiments, both manoeuvring at the same time. P. 


‘The vegetable garden was on an equally huge scale, divided 
into a series of flat gardens, each about eight acres, surrounded 
by high walls. In these walls ovens had been built, which w^ere 
intended to warm them and ripen outdoor fruit. 

‘Then there was the great tunnel, about miles long, 
through which was a carriage drive to Worksop. It had been 
dug out under the Park, and was quite large enough for two 
carriages to pass. The top window lights threw a ghostly light 
down at regular intervals. It dipped down under the lake, and 
here of course it had always to be lit by gas, as the whole tunnel 
was at night. 

‘The late Duke was very kind to the workmen employed on 
his vast underground works. He even provided donkeys for 
them to ride to and from work, and large round stables dug-out 
of the earth. He also gave them umbrellas to shelter them from 
the rain. 

‘In the pleasure garden was a large skating rink, and a man 
was kept to look after the skates of every size. The Duke wished 
his housemaids to skate, and if he found one of them sweeping 
the corridor or the stairs, the frightened girl was sent out to 
skate, whether she wanted to or not. 

‘This vast place, denuded as it was of all grace and beauty and 
life, cast a gloom over us. At first my brother seemed to wish 
to shut it up and leave it, but my mother persuaded him that it 
was his duty to remain. Then she began her long task of making 
an eccentric creation into a normal house, a home for us all. 

‘My brother wished to have a party for some of his brother- 
officers, a short time after oiu* arrival, but where were the beds 
for his friends to sleep in, or the grates for fires? To hire them 
from Worksop was the only possibility. This was done, and his 
friends arrived and were made fairly comfortable. 

‘For many weeks the discoveries went on. One of the rooms 
used by the late Duke was lined with cupboards reaching to the 
ceiling, filled with green boxes, and in these boxes were a large 
number of dark-brown wigs. In other cupboards were boxes and 
boxes of cream Balbriggan socks and white silk handkerchiefs, 


also fine nainsook ones about one yard square, all marked in 
fine cross-stitch S.P. (Scott Portland) with a coronet and the 
number, generally twelve dozen, and other mystic initials, de- 
scribing, I believe, the place where they were to be kept ( W.A., 
Welbeck, L.L. Langwell Lodge, H.H, Harcourt House, "T. for 
travelling). There were also fine white elaborate shirts, with 
frills and high collars and sleeves of inordinate length. But wigs 
and handkerchiefs and shirts would not furnish rooms, and 
other more substantial things had to be looked for, chairs and 
tables. After many enquiries store rooms gave up their treasures, 
and gradually the large rooms became more habitable. Rare 
Gobelins tapestries were discovered in long tin boxes. How well 
I remember the smell of the peppercorns as they tumbled out on 
to the floor when the long roll of splendid pink tapestries was 
undone and spread out. Some of these were hung in the largest 
drawing room, where they still are. 

‘Fine Coromandel screens and cabinets, chests containing 
old velvet Coronation robes,^ were found; and one evening is 
vivid to me — as my brother stood looking through the secret 
drawers of one of the cabinets, standing in the middle of a vast 
empty room, lighted by someone holding a candle, snuff-boxes, 
miniatures, watches were found, and then a green silk quilted 
pocket-case, stuffed with bank-notes for ^2,000. I now have 
this case ; the notes naturally were never mine. I still feel myself 
as a small child peering up at this treasure, lit by the candle. 

‘My mother, afterwards helped by my governess. Miss Lucy 
Craig, worked from morning till night, searching, investigating, 
furnishing rooms and hanging pictures. I think without very 
great expense she turned the cold, bare house into a human 
habitation, with the old family treasures gradually brought out 
and made to look their best.’ 

That is the end of Ottoline’s narrative. Here let me say that I, 
too, wish to pay a very warm tribute to my stepmother ; first, in 

^These axe still at Welbeck. One is the mantle worn by the and Earl (afterwards 
1st Duke) of Portland at the Coronation of George I in 1715* ^ wore this at the 
Coronation of His present Majesty in May 1937. P- 


gratitude for the loving care she gave to me, for she treated me 
in every way as if I were her own child ; and secondly, in com- 
memoration of the unfailing interest and tireless energy with 
which she preserved and arranged the family pictures, minia- 
tures, historic plate and other works of art. She found all these 
treasures, as my sister has written, in the greatest disorder and 
for the most part, as we then believed, uncatalogued. They 
were stored in empty rooms at Welbeck, Harcourt House, and 
13 Hyde Park Gardens.^ As was perhaps natural and normal at 
that time, when I was very young, I cared more about hunting, 
shooting and other sports than for works of art; and, without 
the abihty and industry of my stepmother, I am sure many of 
these valuable things would have been lost or destroyed. I there- 
fore owe my stepmother a double debt of gratitude, for her 
personal goodness to me, and for her interest in and care of the 
family collections. She consulted the most eminent authorities 
as to the history and arrangement of these treasures: Sir George 
Scharf and Mr. (afterwards Sir) Sidney Colvin assisted her 
with the pictures and prints, Mr. Wilfred Cripps with the early 
silver, and Mr. Maxwell Lyte with the large and valuable col- 
lection of family papers. In due course other experts were con- 
sulted ; but I think it may be more convenient to deal with the 
later history of the collection in another chapter. 

Soon after we arrived. Lady Bolsover found that Welbeck is 
extra-parochial and that the late Duke had demolished the old 
chapel, which stood at the east end of the Oxford wing and 
was, I believe, one of the old monastic buildings. For this rea- 
son, there was no convenient place of worship where the family 
and the household could attend Divine Service on Sundays. 
Lady Bolsover very properly said she thought it was extremely 
wrong that we should all live as heathens, so she arranged for us 

late Dxike never lived in Hyde Park Gardens, but used the house for storing* 
China, books, prints and furniture. There was a curious erection on the roof of the 
house, from which a fine view over Hyde Park might be obtained. From the outside 
it looked not unlike a cofiin^ and it was said that omnibus-drivers sometimes pointed 
to it with their wHps, and told their passengers that it contained a body! I believe 
the Local Authorities went so far as to enquire into the truth of this, and of course 
there was none. 



house in Grosvenor Crescent, facing two houses, one of which 
was occupied by the Rt. Hon. G. Gathorne-Hardy, the Secre- 
tary of State for War in Lord Salisbury’s Government, and the 
other by the Duke of Richmond, the Lord President of the 
Council. My sister and brothers and I were all very much inter- 
ested and amused by watching what we then considered the 
‘grand’ people arriving as their guests. Curiously enough, Mr. 
Gathome-Hardy afterwards, with great kindness, lent his house 
to Mr. and Mrs. Dallas-Yorke for the wedding-breakfast and 
reception when I married. Mrs. Dallas-Yorke’s brother. Sir 
Henry Graham, had married Mr. Gathorne-Hardy’s daughter 
Edith as his first wife; and she was the mother of Sir Ronald 
Graham, late British Ambassador in Rome, and the gifted 
writer Harry Graham. 

Mr, Gathorne-Hardy was then about to be created a peer. 
As he had for many years been Member for the University of 
Oxford, some of his busybody supporters suggested that he 
should be created Earl of Oxford, thus reviving the old title 
held by the Veres and by my ancestors the Harleys.^ Indignant 
letters then appeared in the papers, protesting against the re- 
vival of this title. Mr. Gathome-Hardy meanwhile kept a 
dignified silence. I heard afterwards that he had no desire what- 
ever to be Earl of Oxford — ^he wished to become Lord Gran- 
brook, from his intimate connection with that place in Kent. 
This title was subsequently conferred upon him. 

A somewhat similar outcry arose, upon the more recent 
creation of an Earldom of Oxford. I received several letters 
asking me to make some objection; but I took no notice of them 
as, though I am the owner of a good deal of the 2nd Earl of 
Oxford’s property, I have no claim whatever to the title. Nor 
did I wish to appear in any way ungracious to an extremely 
distinguished man, though I do not believe he had any personal 
wish that the title should be revived in his favour. 

^Robert Harley, Lord High Treasurer to Queen Anne, was created Earl of 
Oxford and Earl Mortimer in 1711. It is probable that he was given the second 
Earldom in case a claimant should come forward for the Oxford title, which had 
become extinct only eight years before. 



I wish to begin this chapter with a word of explanation. Wel- 
beck has now been my home for nearly sixty years ; and the 
passage of time has left me with so many recollections of 
happy parties, of friendships and of events, aU of them centred 
there, that it is difficult to know where to begin or where to end. 
I have therefore tried to describe some of what may seem the 
more important parties we have given, adding a few anecdotes 
of the friends who attended them, and of other events more or 
less connected with the place. 

On June 29th, 1881, Prince Leopold, Duke of Albany, came 
over from Bestwood to luncheon. He was accompanied by his 
host the Duke of St. Albans, Lady Spencer, known as ‘Spencer’s 
Fairy Queen’, Lady Claud Hamilton, Miss Mary Grey, now 
Lady Minto, Miss Violet Lindsay, now the Duchess of Rutland, 
and Ralph Bernal Osborne, father of the Duchess of St. Albans, 
widely known for his ability and his caustic wit. The party at 
Bestwood was for the opening of the University College, Notting- 
ham, since removed to a beautiful site outside the City and, 
thanks to the great generosity of the late Lord Trent, equipped 
with splendid buildings. At a ball given at Bestwood on this 
occasion, I remember that, during the cotillon, Lancelot Rolle- 
ston^ and I raced through a paper hoop for the honour of dancing 
with Miss Grey, and I am proud to say I won the race. I also 
had the privilege of giving Miss Grey a mount on one of my 
hunters on the following day, when she distinguished herself by 

^Now Colonel Sir Lancelot RoUeston, K.C.B., D.S.O. 


and was trodden on by one of the Yeomanry horses. The Prince 
had two days’ shooting, and the bags were as follows : 

Number Wood- 

of guns Parts. Pheas. Hares Rabbits cock Var. Total 

lo 3 682 199 105 — — 989 

9 3 336 42 151 3 3 538 

In the evening some of the party played whist or other card- 
games, while others enjoyed the singing of Mrs. Ronalds. There 
was also a table for planchette, a game rather in vogue at the 
time. At another party, very soon afterwards, this game was 
being played by a number of our guests, when someone asked, 
‘Who is the owner of Welbeck likely to marry?’ The mysterious 
pencil began to write, ‘Lady A — — I — .’ The table then 
leaped into the air, I fear not through any spiritual agency, and 
the dim candles were extinguished. I may say that a sister of a 
well-known and charming lady whose name contained those 
letters was one of the players, and perhaps she thought it 
advisable to prevent any further revelations on the part of the 
spirits ! 

My sister Ottoline was eight years old at the time, and when 
H.R.H. went away he gave her a kiss. I mention this because, 
when Queen Alexandra was our guest in 1915 for the marriage 
of my elder son, Titchfield, to Ivy Gordon-Lennox, who had 
been Her Majesty’s Maid of Honour, she said to Ottoline, ‘Ah! 
You are the little girl my husband kissed!’ Ottoline had also 
the distinction of being kissed as a small child by Lord Beacons- 
field : so she may be said to have begun life with a double blessing. 

The celebrated and much loved Lady A. was persona grata 
wherever she went, and was a special favourite of the Prince and 
Princess of Wales. She was devoted to the Princess, and the 
Princess seemed no less attached to her. I remember that when 
she happened to be in a carriage with the Princess, H.R.H. 
bowed to the cheering people on either side of the carriage, and 
then waved her hand to Lady Ailesbury, as if to say, ‘Remember 
my old friend, and please give her a cheer too.* 

Lady A. died in 1893, at an advanced age, and to the last she 


followed the old fashion of wearing her hair in ringlets. She 
was a strikingly handsome and dignified old lady; and she 
much enjoyed society and attending race-meetings. She liked 
having her little bets too, but I believe they never exceeded 
a very few pounds. Though extremely kind-hearted, she was 
rather worldly ; and, when chaffed for making herself particu- 
larly agreeable to young people, she is said to have replied in 
fun, in her well-known deep voice, ‘My dear, my dear, you 
never know when any beautiful young lady may not blossom 
into a Duchess ! ’ Being of an affectionate nature, she some- 
times allowed her favourites to salute her on the cheek, but al- 
ways with the stipulation, ‘No — only on this cheek. The other is 
sacred to the memory of my dear Lord Ailesbury.’ Incidentally, 
her dear Lord Ailesbury was bom in 1773 and died in 1856: so 
she had been faithful to his memory for some time ! She was sup- 
posed to be the lady to whom the footman said, ‘Robin’s at the 
door, my Lady. . . . Oh! Robin’s in the soup now, my Lady!’ 
From the frequent mention of her in Dizzy’s correspondence 
with Lady Chesterfield and Lady Bradford it is clear that Lady 
A. was one of his special firiends. 

I never met Lady Chesterfield ; but Lord and Lady Bradford 
were among the party at Hughenden at the time of my second 
visit in 1880 (see page 167), and I afterwards knew them both 
very well indeed. Lady Bradford was a most charming old lady, 
and the perfect type of grande dame. It is no wonder that Dis- 
raeli liked her society and her correspondence. Her younger 
daughter, now Florence, Countess of Harewood, inherited all 
her mother’s beauty and charm. 

After the death of the 2nd Lord Wilton in March, 1882, his 
cellar of wine was sold by auction. I was about to go fishing on 
the Helmsdale, in Sutherland, at the time; and, before leaving 
London, I commissioned a wine merchant to buy the champagne 
and claret. Foolishly and carelessly, I did not restrict him as to 
price. I well remember my consternation, not unmixed with 
amusement, when. Lord Berkeley Paget, who was my guest and 
dabbled in the wine trade himself, read out a paragraph from the 


headed, ‘Extraordinary Prices for Lord Wilton’s Wine,’ add- 
ing the remark, ‘There must be some damned fool about — I wish 
I could get hold of him!’ In fear and trepidation I asked, ‘What 
were the prices?’ ; and he quoted the most alarming figures. Not 
wishing to give myself away, I said, ‘No doubt you are right. 
It must be some fool, as you say.’ It seems that the wine was 
sold in small parcels; and my stupid agent had bought every 
one of them. A well-known lover of wine living at Brighton, 
Mr. Panmure Gordon, who had been unable to purchase any 
of the previous lots, in despair bid up to an extraordinary sum 
for the last two or three lots, to obtain samples of the fine 
vintages. But I fear he was disappointed. 

When the wine was delivered, the champagne — which was, I 
think, 1874 Perrier Jouet — ^was of the very finest quality. Not 
long afterwards Berkeley Paget was my guest at Welbeck, and 
I noticed that he freely lapped it down at dinner. ‘Well, 
Berkeley,’ I said, ‘you seem to like that!’ ‘I do indeed,’ he 
replied: ‘it’s first class. Where did you get it?’ ‘Oh I’ I replied 
with a wink, ‘that’s some of Lord Wilton’s wine.’ ‘Good God I’ 
exclaimed Berkeley; ‘was it you who paid those prices for it? 
You never gave yourself away.’ ‘No,’ said I, ‘I don’t suppose I 
did. But I hope, old chap, you don’t think I was quite such a 
damned fool now! So we’ll cry quits.’ The claret. Chateau 
Margaux of the finest vintage, was then too strong for drinking; 
but in later years it was much enjoyed by ray guests. 

On July 2nd, 1882, the Valj;ar ul-Umara and other Hydera- 
bad notabilities visited Welbeck, and when they left they gave 
me some interesting and valuable presents, which are still in the 
house. The Vakar u-Umara was a near relative of the famous 
Sir Salar Jung, Prime Minister of Hyderabad, one of the most 
able and enlightened natives of India. 

On September 23rd, 1886, the Duke and Duchess of Teck 
came firom Rufford for the day, and with them their daughter 
Princess Victoria Mary, now our gracious and beloved Queen 
Mary. Among those who accompanied them was General Sir 
George Higginson, often referred to as ‘Old Hig’, who had 


served in the Crimea as adjutant of a battalion of the Grenadier 
Guards. He died in 1927, in his hundred and first year. 

The Welbeck party for the first Show of the Royal Com- 
mission on Horse Breeding, which was held in Nottingham in 
February 1888, and of which I, as Master of the Horse, was the 
President, included the Rt. Hon. Henry Chaplin, Minister for 
Agriculture ; Lord Coventry, Master of the Buck Hounds ; Lord 
Ribblesdale; Sir Jacob Wilson, representing the R.A.S.E.; Sir 
John Gilmour, father of the Rt. Hon. Sir John Gilmour, recently 
Secretary of State for Scotland; Mr. Bowen Jones, representing 
the Central Chamber of Agriculture; and Mr. J. Herbert Tay- 
lor, the Secretary. Among other guests were Lord Rosslyn, Lord 
Calthorpe and Sir Matthew White Ridley, afterwards Home 
Secretary. The Show was a great success, and later Shows on 
the same lines were held, as they are still, in the Agricultural 
Hall at Islington. 

Soon after this. Miss Winifred Dallas-Yorke visited Welbeck 
for the first time. It was on March i ith, 1889, a few days after 
our engagement. The other guests were Mr. and Mrs. Dallas- 
Yorke, her father and mother; Sir Henry and Lady Margaret 
Graham,^ and the Hon. Eric and Mrs. Barrington, ^ her uncles 
and aunts; Lord and Lady Muncaster, Count Larisch, Count 
Ferdinand Rinsky, Lord Lurgan and Mr. J. J. Shannon, R.A., 
who painted a portrait of my future wife, as a wedding-present 
from my tenants. So ended the ten happy years of my life at 
Welbeck as a bachelor; and then began the — thanks to my dear 
wife — still happier years of my life as a married man. 

My wife has kindly written for me a few recollections of her 
early life, and a short account of the foundation of the Ortho- 
paedic Hospital at Harlow Wood, near Nottingham, which I 
venture to insert here: 

‘My first remembrance as a child is of Murthly Castle in 

^Sir Henry Graham was Clerk of the Parliaments. I shall refer to him again, 
later in the chapter. 

^Sir Eric Barrington acted for many years as private secretary to Lord Salisbury, 
when Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, who described him as the ideal private 
secretary, very remarkable for his tact and courtesy. 


(J. J. Shannon, 1889) 

JUNE iiTH, 1889 

Perthshire, where I was born, and where my grandmother, Mrs. 
Graham, lived for many years. Portland was bom at Kinnaird 
House, only a few miles away; our parents were married in the 
same church, at Birnam near Dunkeld, where we were both bap- 
tised; and, curiously enough, the same Doctor — ^Dr. Irvine of 
Pitlochry — ^helped to bring us both into the world. 

‘I had the happiest girlhood anyone could have, and my four 
most intimate companions when I came out are my dearest 
friends still — I allude to Alice Salisbury, Mabell Airlie, Ettie 
Desborough and Elizabeth Kenmare. 

‘When I was sixteen and seventeen, my mother took a house 
in Rome for two winters, for my education. I remember vividly 
a very ordinary young tutor, who came in the afternoons to give 
me lessons in Italian history. But one day he appeared in a 
beautiful uniform, and then my interest in history greatly in- 
creased, and I became far more attentive to my lessons ! 

, ‘My mother’s great culture and intelligence made our house 
a centre for many celebrated men and women, who became her 
firm friends. Amongst others, I well remember Rubinstein, 
Anatole France, Jules Simon, Paderewski, Lembach the painter, 
Jules Lemaitre, the Griegs, Fleischel, and Madame de Heger- 
man, who had a most lovely voice. On Sunday mornings, we 
went to Mt. Ross, the Swedish painter’s house, where Sgambati 
and his famous quartet often rehearsed their repertoire for 
future concerts in the Sala Dante. Rome held a marvellous 
wealth of musicians and painters in those days. I therefore look 
back upon my girlhood there as a very precious remembrance, 
combining education (as it did) with the absorbing interest of 
the people with whom I came into contact. 

‘Gounod came to see us in Paris, and I remember he put his 
hand on my head and said, “Bless you, my dear child.” M. 
Paderewski has always remained a faithful, friend of my child- 
hood. When he is in London he comes to see lis, and if we go to 
l.ausanne we always pay him a visit at his lovely villa at Morges. 

‘A very amusing thing happened when Portland and I went 
to Dunkeld on our honeymoon. We were both eager to spend a 


day at Murthly, where Sir Douglas Stewart, the owner, and 
Lady Stewart lived after my grandmother left. We had luncheon 
there, and then P. and I walked by the river with one of the old 
keepers. It began to pour with rain, and in a few minutes I was 
wet through. I went back to the Castle, where Lady Stewart 
fitted me out with some of her own clothes — a pair of thick 
stockings, elastic-sided boots made of cashmere, and a long, 
frilled petticoat which appeared below my green tweed skirt. 

‘I was put into a carriage, to go to the hotel at Birnam, and 
when nearing the town I saw flags and flower-arches festooned 
across the road. I thought it must be for a cattle show or some 
holiday festivities — till I drew up at the hotel, where red cloth 
was laid down, and the Provost was waiting to receive me. 
Conscious of my white petticoat, my prunella boots, and a white 
tulle veil which had melted away in the rain, leaving black spots 
all over my face, I leaped into the hotel passage, muttering that 
I would return in a few minutes. My fringe, which was my own, 
had become imcurled and meandered down my face. Never 
shall I forget the speed with which I recurled it and put on suit- 
able clothes to be received by the town dignitaries, nor the 
agony of trying to suppress my sense of humour at my recent 
appearance ! 

‘Among my later interests, after I married, was a home for tiny 
delicate children from the industrial towns near Welbeck, which 
stiU exists and is doing great things for their health. Miss Annie 
Stenton has been in charge of it since the beginning, and I can- 
not speak highly enough of her devotion to the cause, or of the 
great practical good she has done. I continually receive letters 
from the parents, expressing their keen sense of gratitude to her. 

‘At the beginning of the War, a Hospital was organised at 
Welbeck for wounded N.C.O.’s and men of our son Titchfield’s 
regiment, the Blues. Later on it was enlarged to sixty beds, for 
convalescing patients; but a great many of these were serious 
cases, who were sent to Sir Douglas Shields’s Hospital in Park 
Lane for operations. With very great kindness. Sir Douglas re- 
served five beds for our patients during the whole of the War, 


and. for a long time after it was over. He performed some mar- 
vellous operations and we never lost one case. My gratitude to 
Sir Douglas is unbounded. 

After the War, finding that many Nottinghamshire men who 
were totally disabled by spinal injuries were inmates of the Star 
and Garter at Richmond, and other hospitals far away, Port- 
land and I purchased EUerslie House in Nottingham, which 
made a nursing home in perfect surroundings, so that the men 
could be near their wives and families. I am glad it is still in 
existence, and I believe it supplies a great want. 

‘Those who go into the back streets and httle alleys of our 
towns know, alas, the number of crippled children who are ly in g 
in their homes, or are sometimes pushed out into the courts 
among the linen drying on lines, with little fresh air and no in- 
terests around them. Before the War, the Nottingham Cripples 
Guild brought a large party of children to spend the day at Wel- 
beck, when we all did our best to give them a happy time. This 
became an annual event; but everyone felt that, though the 
patients might enjoy their outing, regular treatment, both medi- 
cal and surgical, should also be provided for them. A clinic was 
therefore opened in Nottingham, where advice as to the man- 
agement and skilled treatment of these cases could be obtained. 

‘Although this clinic met with great success, many of its sup- 
porters felt that even more permanent provision should be made. 
So the Orthopaedic Hospital at Harlow Wood came into exist- 
ence. It was opened in 1929 by Their Royal Highnesses the 
Duke and Duchess of York, now our much loved King and 
Queen. It accommodates 156 patients, fifty of these being 
children, and the others men and women, all with tubercular 
hips or backs. They lie out in the open air all day and all night, 
and never complain of the cold — as I do ! I am glad to say that 
nearly all of them leave the Hospital cured, or at any rate much 

‘There are, besides the general staff, three school-mistresses, 
and two ladies who teach handicrafts and work. Many of the 
bigger children have never been to school, and their delight at 
D 49 

being taught to read is a joy to see. There are now six clinics in 
the County, and the patients attend these until there is room 
for them in the Hospital. The lives of the patients are, I hope, 
made as happy and amusing as possible; and the great treat is 
their “talkie” cinema three times a week. 

‘Another ward has lately been opened for miners injured 
in the pits, so that their injuries may be attended to at once by 
our first-class orthopaedic surgeons. Life seems too short to do 
all the things one would like; but it is wonderful to know that 
over two thousand cases have passed through Harlow Wood 
Hospital in the six years of its existence. 

T should like to take this opportunity of thanking all those 
who, by their wise advice and generous assistance, have made 
possible the building of Harlow Wood, for without their aid it 
could never have been achieved.’ W. P. 

Though we gave many balls when our children were young, 
at our now demolished house in Grosvenor Square, when our 
friends danced till dayhght to the music of Gottlieb’s or Dres- 
cher’s Band, my wife and I never cared very much for giving large 
entertainments in London: for it seemed to us that the guests who 
came to them included a great number whom we hardly knew, 
some whom we had possibly never seen before, and many whom 
we certainly never wished to see again. However large the house, 
and however many invitations were issued, it was inevitable 
that some, who believed — ^probably quite wrongly — that they 
had a right to be invited, should be left out; while others who, 
for one reason or another, should not have been asked, were 
just as inevitably there. So these entertainments seemed to be 
'equally a waste of time, money and energy, and did not appeal 
to either of us. 

Entertaining at Welbeck, however,, was and is quite another 
affair, and that is loved by my wife and me, for there our guests 
are [always our best and dearest friends. We enjoy their com- 
pany in peace; and I hope they enjoy our hospitality. We 
entertain at Welbeck more or less all the year round. In the 
winter there are continual shooting-parties; and during the 



Back Row: Sir H. Graham, Lady H. Bentinck, Mrs. Dallas-Yorke, Lord 

Middle Row: Lady Milner, Prince Ernest Hohenlohe, M. de Several, Winifred 
Pordand, Lady O. Bentinck, Lady Newark, Earl Manvers. 

Front Row: Bertie Dallas-Yorke, Victoria. 

summer we have parties at Easter and Whitsuntide, and also 
what was formerly known as our Show Week in August. This 
was so named because, until the War, my tenants’ Agricultural 
Show^ was held at that time, and we invited friends who might 
be interested in it. We also have guests at Langwell all through 
the autumn; and those are the parties I enjoy most of all, for 
our friends then seem to be at their happiest and best. 

When H.M. King Ghulalonkorn of Siam, attended by many 
members of his household, paid us a visit on August gth, 1897, 
we were rather astonished at the loudness with which H.M. al- 
ways spoke. In explanation of this rather tiresome habit, we 
were told that it is customary in Siam, or at all events was then, 
to modulate one’s voice according to one’s rank: so the King 
roared like a foghorn. I remember that when H.M. was asked 
whether he would take port, sherry, claret or madeira, he dis- 
concerted the butler exceedingly by shouting. Tort !’ at the top 
of his voice. 

When H.M. was shown the drawing-rooms, he Hngered be- 
hind the rest of the party, in company with my wife, and I 
heard him say to her in the very opposite of a whisper, Tf I were 
only English, I should marry for Love!’ So I thought it best 
to make a hurried return. 

As a memento of his visit H.M. kindly gave me some beautifrd 
Siamese work in gold, enamel and diamonds ; and for this, not- 
withstanding his stentorian lung-power, I was and am extreme- 
ly grateful to him. 

When H.M. left Welbeck for Scotland, a special train was 
placed at his disposal, and he was good enough to invite me to 
make use of it. I accepted his kind offer — ^but very soon regretted 
that I had done so, for I found that by H.M.’s personal order 
the train was never allowed to travel at more than forty miles an 

For some time H.M. occupied Lord Desborough s house, 
Xaplow Court, and while he was in residence there I sent him 
a stag which I had shot at Langwell. H.M. was entertaining 

^See Appendix III. 


a number of his sons at the time ; and I heard that the stag was 
roasted whole on the lawn. At the subsequent banquet the sons 
were divided into two groups. One of these groups H.M. knew 
very well and greeted kindly; but then, pointing to the other, he 
said to one of his officials, ‘Who are these young men, and where 
do they come from?’ 

Another remarkable visitor from the East was the Amir 
Feisal, later the first King of Iraq, who came from Chatsworth, 
attended by the famous Colonel Lawrence, on February 14th, 
1921. While I was showing them the house, they went into my 
sitting-room on the ground floor, when the Amir said something 
in Arabic to Lawrence, who laughed. I asked him what the 
Amir had said, but he replied that he did not like to tell me. 
When I pressed him, he said, ‘The Amir wishes me to ask you 
why you choose to Hve on the ground-floor, among all the dirt, 
the dust, and the stinks, and not at the top of the house as he 

I was at Langwell in October, 1900, and about to set out for 
the forest one morning, when a telegram arrived from my agent 
at Welbeck, Mr. Warner Turner, announcing that the Oxford 
wing of the Abbey was on fire. Mr. Turner reported that the 
children, who had left Langwell for Welbeck a short time before, 
were quite safe and had gone to London, and that he hoped 
the fire might be confined to the wing alone. As there was no- 
thing else I could do, I went out stalking; and on my return I 
found a second telegram, saying that the fire had been extin- 
guished, and had not spread to the Gothic Hall or to the rest 
of the house. 

My daughter, Victoria Wemyss, has kindly written her 
recollections of the fire, as follows: 

‘Sonnie, Morven and I came down from Langwell to Wel- 
beck with Sister Grace, at the end of September, 1900, Morven 
being a baby of eight weeks old. At about 3.30 a.m. on the 
morning of October 5^5 1 was wakened by Clacy’s^ voice telling 
me I was to get up at once. He added (I suppose not to frighten 

^The House Steward. P. 


me) that there was smoke in the passage, and that they thought 
something must be on fire. At that moment I heard suffocating 
coughs outside my room, which turned out to be Denny, the 
under-butler, who was overcome by the smoke. 

‘We then went to the room in which Sonnie and Morven 
were sleeping, and we all went down some stone stairs (no 
longer existing) at the end of the passage, to the Housekeeper’s 
room. I still remember how cold those stairs felt, as I had not 
been given time to get any shoes, and was barefooted. Neither 
was I given time to save my large doll named Netta, which was 
in a wooden cot by the side of my bed ; and, alas, I never saw 
dear Netta again. As she was made of wax, I fear she must have 
melted in the fire. I can only hope it was a painless end! Our 
tortoise was found swimming about in the bath in the day- 
nursery next day, none the worse. 

‘The fire broke out in a room off mine, and next door to my 
governess. It was supposed that the nurserymaid, wishing to 
iron some sashes for me to wear at a party, had gone to Mother’s 
maid’s room to use the electric iron and, having switched on the 
plug and found the current off, had forgotten to turn the switch 
back again.i’ 

On our return to Welbeck, we found the upper part of the 
Oxford wing completely burnt, and other parts of the building 
so saturated with water — I believe four steam fire-engines had 
been at work — that it, too, was practically destroyed. 

I should be very ungrateful if I did not pay a sincere tribute to 
the devoted and excellent work of my own fire brigade and ser- 
vants, and of our good and brave neighbours, the miners from 
the adjacent villages. They all worked extremely hard ; and rnany 
stories were afterwards told of their courage. One of the miners 
was seen perched on a high wardrobe, unscrewing it from the 
wall with one hand, and with the other throwing small basins of 
water at the flames, which had burst through the ceihng over 
his head. Three or four other miners came across a highly 

may say that after this I consigned most of the electric irons in the house to a 
watery grave in the lake. P . 


polished ebony piano. ‘Lor’ ! How she do shine !’ remarked one of 
them. ‘We must mind and not scratch ’er.’ They then fetched a 
mattress, and on this they lowered the piano to the lawn. 
‘We’ve broke ’er leg,’ they reported; ‘but we didn’t scratch ’er 
after all!’ These are only two small instances of their devoted 
kindness; and I am glad to have an opportunity of recording 
how much I owe to it, and to them. 

Even the billiard-table was rescued, and taken out on to the 
lawn — no mean effort of strength. This reminds me that, some 
years later, Mr. Warner Turner telephoned late one night, say- 
ing he had heard there were burglars at the Abbey, and asked 
whether anything had been seen of them. Failing to recognise his 
voice, the clerk replied, ‘Yes — ^not long ago I saw a fellow 
running across the cricket ground, with the billiard-table under 
his arm!’ Mr. Turner’s next remark is not recorded. 

The work of reconstruction was carried out by Mr. (after- 
wards Sir) Ernest George and his assistant, Mr. Alfred Yeates. 
They not only restored and improved the accommodation in 
the Oxford Wing, but carried out many alterations to the house 
itself, I think most successfully: for they converted it from an 
old-fashioned, inconvenient barrack into a comfortable modern 
residence, without altering its character. 

Sir Ernest George was recommended to me by Mr. Bertie 
Mitford, at one time Secretary of H.M.’s Office of Works and 
afterwards created Lord Redesdale, for whom Sir Ernest re- 
stored Batsford Park in Gloucestershire. I asked advice as to an- 
other architect from Lord Wemyss, whose house, Gfosford, had 
lately been rebuilt; and he assured me, ‘I am quite satisfied 
with the work X. has done for me. Indeed, we had only one 
serious misunderstanding, and that was when I ventured to 
suggest that Inigo Jones and Sir Christopher Wren were almost 
as great architects as himself!’ 

I think Sir Ernest was an excellent architect. He was especi- 
ally clever at adapting old houses to modem use, without 
changing their essential character. After his death, the firm was 
carried on for some years by Mr. Yeates, whom I employed to 


design and execute the War Memorial at Berriedale (See Fifty 
Tears and More, iQSS? plate 36). 

Soon after the fire, I determined to make a golf course in the 
Park and employed Willie Fernie^ of Troon in Ayrshire to lay 
out a 9-hole course. After some years I increased the coiurse to 18 
holes, which it has been ever since. Sam Malthouse,® a pro- 
fessional cricketer who long ago played for the Derbyshire 
Club, was put in charge of the course. His son Bill once drove 
a ball into a thorn-tree, where it was pierced right through by 
a thorn. The ball is still kept in the golf paviHon. Reggie 
Malthouse, Sam’s younger son, now has charge of the course. 

I once asked Wilhe Femie whom he considered to be a per- 
fect golfer. He repHed that he did not beheve such a thing as a 
perfect golfer had ever existed, or ever would exist, but that he 
considered. Harry Vardon to come as near to perfection as 
possible. He also greatly admired the style of Miss Winifred 
Martin-Smith, who often played at Welbeck; and he said it was 
always a pleasure to play with her, or even to act as her caddy 
and carry her clubs. Miss Martin-Smith was runner-up for the 
Ladies’ Championship; but she was not so strong as Miss 
Leitch, who, after playing two or three extra holes, eventually 
won the championship. This was of course before the days of 
wonderful Miss Joyce Wethered. 

I am glad to pay tribute to Willie Fernie and his two sons. 
They were all three at Welbeck when the Great War broke out ; 
and, after expressing deep regret that he himself was too old to 
fight, Willie said that both his sons would join the Army at once. 
They did so— thereby setting an example which some other 
professional golfers might have followed with advantage. Tom 
was wounded quite soon after his arrival in France, and was 
sent to a large hospital in Lincoln. It was thought that he had 

iWillie Fernie held the Open Championship of Great Britain in 1 883, and was, I 
believe, five times runner-up. . 

^My opinion of Sam Malthouse is expressed in the memori^ I 
the cricket pavilion: In grateful and affectionate remembrance of Sam Malthouse, a good 
cricketer, a fine sportsman and a valued friend. He always played the game. Welbeck, 



injured his spine, and he himself believed he was going to die. 
My wife happened to visit the hospital, and there, to her sur- 
prise, she found Tom. Arrangements were soon afterwards made 
for his transfer to Welbeck, where he fortunately recovered. 
Tom has held the Scottish Championship four times, and is now 
professional at Lytham St. Anne’s. 

A Tenants’ Cricket Club was formed as long ago as 1884. At 
first the wickets were poor, owing to the heaviness of the soil; 
but, after careful draining and replacement of the subsoil with 
ashes and light loam, the ground was much improved, and to- 
day the wickets are, I believe, as good as can be found anywhere. 
Many of the best cricketers in the country have played on them 
from time to time — ^in old days, Richard Daft, Arthur Shrews- 
bury, W. Flower, W. Barnes, and Alfred Shaw, and more 
recently S. Barnes, Wysall, Gunn, Nigel Haig, who , afterwards 
played for Middlesex, and many others. Before the War, my 
chaplain, the Rev. G. B. Raikes, and my secretary. Captain H. 
H. Amory, formed a strong Welbeck eleven, which was seldom 

At the request of Mr. Warner Turner, Mr. A. W. Shelton, 
the great authority on Nottinghamshire cricket, who was Presi- 
dent of the County Club in 1933, has very kindly sent me the 
following notes: 

‘Two County matches were played at Welbeck, both Not- 
tinghamshire versus Derbyshire. The first was on August 12 th- 
14th, 1901, when Nottinghamshire won by an innings and 159 
runs. In this match, T. Wass took 13 wickets for 40, and J. Gunn 
5 wickets for 14. The other match, which took place on July 
28th-30th, 1904, was drawn. 

‘Among County cricketers who played with the Welbeck 
Eleven were Samuel Malthouse, Daniel Bottom, and Edward 
Alletson. Malthouse, who was born at Whitwell in 1859, played 
frequently for Derbyshire from 1890 to 1895. His highest inn- 
ings was 74 not out, versus Leicestershire at Derby in 1890. He 
died on February 7th, 1931. Bottom, who was also a native of 
Whitwell, was born in 1 864. He played occasionally for Derby- 
shire during the seasons of 1891-3-4-8 and 1901, and also for 


Nottinghamshire, under a residential qualification, in three 
matches during the season of i8gg. He was for some time em- 
ployed in the Forestry Department at Welbeck, and died at 
Nottingham in 1937. 

‘Alletson was born at Welbeck in 1884. He was a member of 
the ground staff at Trent Bridge for some years, being em- 
ployed as a carpenter at Welbeck during the winter months. He 
first played for Nottinghamshire in 1906, and continued to. do so 
until 1914; but he took part in only two matches that season, 
and did not play for the County again. He played 171 com- 
pleted innings for Nottinghamshire, and obtained 3,194 runs. 
His highest score was 189, versus Sussex at Brighton in 19 1 1 . This 
innings was, without any doubt, the most wonderful achieve- 
ment performed by any professional batsman in the whole his- 
tory of first-class cricket. The hits were — eight 6’s, twenty-three 
4’s, four 3’s, ten 2’s, and seventeen singles. .Metson took an hour 
to make his first 50, hit his second 50 in fifteen minutes, and his 
last 89 in another 1 5 minutes. After lunch, he scored 1 15 out of 
120 in seven overs, hitting Killick for 22 in one over, and for 34 
in another. The details of this wonderful innings will be found 
under the head of “Fast Scoring” in Wisden’s Cricketef s Almanack, 
^9355 155* further particulars, see F. S. Ashley-Cooper, 

Nottinghamshire Cricket and Cricketers, 1923, page, 329. A.W.S.’ 

I may add to Mr. Shelton’s interesting notes that, in order to 
commemorate his remarkable score at Brighton, I presented 
Alletson with a gold watch. I should also like to mention two 
other Welbeck cricketers: Mr. G. G. Walker of Whitwell, a fast 
bowler, who played for many years as an amateur for Derby- 
shire with great success ; and the late George Marples, who, alas, 
was killed during the Great War, a very active player for the 
Welbeck Eleven when Captain Amory, Mr. Raikes and Nigel 
Haig made up such a strong side. 

When the so-called Test Matches between England and 
Australia were played at the Trent Bridge cricket ground in 
Nottingham, I was delighted to invite the opposing Elevens to 
have luncheon and spend the afternoon at Welbeck on the 
intervening Sunday. I am very glad to bear witness to the fact 
that, in spite of the ridiculous and exaggerated reports which 


appeared in the more sensational newspapers, the most friendly- 
relations existed between them. They not only foregathered at 
luncheon, laughing and chaffing one another, but many of 
them spent the afternoon walking round the gardens arm-in- 
arm. I here reproduce a page from the Visitors’ Book, written at 
the time of the Test Match in 1934. 

When Don Bradman was convalescent after his operation 
for appendicitis in 1934, he and his charming wife paid us a 
visit at Welbeck for some days. On the day after their arrival, I 
heard a piano being beautifully played for nearly an hour; and 
when I went into the Gothic Hall, there was Don Bradman 
playing, it seemed to me, nearly as well as he batted. I compli- 
mented him on his skill, and he replied, T enjoy playing the piano 
better than anything in the world; and now, thank goodness, I 
shall have plenty of time for it, for I have been forbidden to 
play cricket.’ My wife and I liked Mr. and Mrs. Bradman very 
much indeed, and we hope to see them again when they next 
come to England. 

King Carlos of Portugal, who visited us in 1904, was of 
opinion that he could do most things better than anyone else. 
Soon after he arrived he went to the billiard room, where he 
played with a friend of mine who was very good indeed at the 
game; but, by judicious marking on the part of another old 
friend, a very skilful trainer of racehorses. King Carlos was 
allowed to win by ten, though he should have lost by at least 

fifty. H.M. then asked me, Ts not Mr. one of the best 

amateur players in England?’ ‘Yes, Sir, I believe he is.’ ‘Ah!’ 
remarked His Majesty with satisfaction ; ‘but / beat him 1 ’ 

J. S. Sargent, the eminent painter, was our guest at the time; 
and Sir Evan Gharteris reminds me that King Carlos remarked 
to him, ‘I do not believe, Mr. Sargent, that even you could say 
what I can: that I have never yet had a picture refused by the 
Academy’ — the Academy being that of Lisbon. ‘I am sure, sir,’ 
replied Sargent, ‘that none of the artists I know could say that.’ 

The King told me that there was good stag hunting in Portu- 
gal. ‘Sometimes’, he said, ‘the stag will run for ten or twelve 



miles; and when we catch him, there is nobody there but meJ' I 
received this proof of His Majesty’s prowess with all due respect. 

Their Majesties the King and Queen of Spain visited us in 
1907. We gave a ball in their honour, at which my daughter 
made her debut. Several of H.M.’s subjects attended the ball, 
among others a beautiful lady, the Sefiora de Villavieja; and I 
shall never forget that, when we returned from the underground 
ball-rooni, she put my diamond Garter round her neck and we 
valsed round the drawing-room! The King of Spain was quite a 
■good shot; and I hope their Majesties enjoyed their visit as 
much as we did their company. Besides shooting, the King, my 
sister-in-law Gissie Bentinck and I rode early each morning. His 
Majesty was an excellent horseman, and seemed gready to en- 
joy his gaUops through the Forest. The King was a man of great 
personal courage, as well as of unusual charm. It is sad to re- 
member all that has happened to him and his family since those 
happy and, for us, carefree days. 

In July 191 1, Prince Henry of Prussia, a brother of the Ger- 
man Emperor, headed a tour of the combined German motor 
clubs through the midland counties. He was attended by General 
Grierson who had been MiHtary Attache in Berlin, and who died 
in a railway-train, when on his way to take command of the and 
Army Corps during the War. I invited the whole party to lun- 
cheon at Welbeck. I met them in my car at Daybrook Corner, 
near Nottingham, and piloted them by Rufford, Thoresby and 
Clumber to Welbeck, which we entered by the Sparken Hill 
gate. Prince Henry said he hoped that the tour would promote 
good feeling between England and Germany; but personally I 
was inclined to doubt it, as all that the passers-by saw of the 
visitors was the bhnding cloud of dust raised by their motors. I 
did not, however, say so to H.I.H. 

When we arrived, we had luncheon at round tables in the 
underground ballroom. After we had sat down, a friend 
told me that three of the Germans were still waiting outside: 
so I said, ‘Ask them to come in, as we are beginning luncheon.’ 
In a moment or two he returned, and told me that they 


refused to do so unless they were placed at the same table 
as Prince Henry. As that table was already full, I said, ‘If they 
are so pompous as all that, I am very sorry, but I am afraid they 
must stay outside.’ I believe they actually did so; and I hope 
they felt as hungry all the afternoon as they deserved to do ! 
After luncheon, H.I.H. and the other visitors went on to Har- 
rogate. We all liked Prince Henry very much, and thought him 
a charming man. 

Both my wife and I look back with great pleasure to, and feel 
deeply honoured by, the visits which the late King and Queen 
EUsabeth of the Belgians paid to us at Grosvenor Square, 
Welbeck and Langwell, and we are most grateful to our dear 
friend Ehsalex de Baillet for her kindness in having presented 
us to them. Their Majesties were later good enough to invite 
us to Laeken, a visit which we shall never forget, nor their kind- 
ness and genial hospitality to us on that occasion. 

The Queen alone honoured us with a visit at Grosvenor 
Square, for nearly a fortnight. We gave Her Majesty our own 
rooms, in consequence of which she said, ‘I am your little 
cuckoo’ ; and as such, even now, my wife and I often refer to 
her in private. While Her Majesty was there, King George and 
Queen Mary honoured us with their presence at dinner on the 
evening of July 20th, 1925. 

Queen EUzabeth afterwards came to Welbeck, where she 
played golf with considerable skill, partnered by Arthur Havers, 
the former professional champion, who stands well over 6 ft. high, 
while Her Majesty measures perhaps 5 ft. i or 5 ft. 2. 

In 1930, the King and Queen of the Belgians both honoured 
us with their presence at Langwell. I have already written an 
account of this visit in Fifty Tears and More of Sport in Scotland, 
1933, p. 126. We little thought then of the impending tragedy 
which was so soon to occur. Alas, alas, those happy days are 
gone, never to return; but as long as we hve we shall always 
value the memory of them, for none of our friends ever occupied 
a warmer place in our hearts. The Queen is a woman of great 
courage. During the War H.M. flew many times over the German 


lines on expeditions to England; and both she and the King, 
escorted by Admiral Sir Roger Keyes with a guard of British 
bluejackets, were present in Ostend during its evacuation by 
the German troops. 

Their Majesties King George and Queen Mary, accompanied 
by the Prince of Wales, honoured us by a visit in July, 1928. 
The object ofTheir Majesties’ visit was to open the splendid new 
buildings presented to University College, Nottingham, by Sir 
Jesse Boot, who was soon afterwards created Lord Trent, and 
to attend the Show of the Royal Agricultural Society in 
Wollaton Park on the following day. When Their Majesties 
opened the College buildings, they and a few others were 
invited to tea by Lady Boot. Afterwards Their Majesties, my 
wife and I were taken to an adjoining room to visit Sir Jesse, 
whom we found lying on a couch ; but, though he was unable 
to move, his mind was as alert and cheerful as ever. On this 
occasion Their Majesties promoted the Mayor of Nottingham 
to the Lord Mayoralty. Their gracious intention had not been 
previously announced: and I had the pleasure and honour of 
making it known by addressing the Mayor as ‘My Lord Mayor’ 
during the opening ceremony in the College buildings — ^an 
announcement which was, of course, received with much 

There were two centenarians living in Nottingham at the 
time, Mr. William Walker and Mrs. Bousfield, and it was 
arranged for them to be presented to Their Majesties during 
the proceedings. It was found, however, that it would not be 
advisable for them to be presented at the same time, for 
while the old man, who was no less than a hundred and six, 
strongly believed in the enjoyment of the good things of this 
world, the old lady, aged only a hundred, was a convinced 
and, I beheve, lifelong total-abstainer. It was therefore decided 
that the old man should be presented when Their Majesties 
and their suites arrived in motor cars at the City Boundary, 
where they entered their carriages; while the old lady was 
presented at the University College. Though a centenarian. 

she would still have passed anywhere for sixty-five or seventy 
years of age. One of her sons is a well known K.G. Mrs. Bousfield 
died only a short time ago, in her io6th year. 

The old man was no less remarkable. When asked about his 
diet he replied, ‘What do I like to live on? Why, plenty good 
beer, plenty good baccy, and plenty good pork pies.’ Think of 
eating ‘plenty good pork pies’ at a hundred and six ! Even at my 
age, I cannot eat pork pie with impunity. I was told that he 
helped to build the first Midland Station at Nottingham. When 
questioned about his friends he said, ‘Dear old Bill Jones, he was 
a good pal of mine; the best pal I ever had.’ ‘Have you seen 
him lately?’ ‘Seen him lately? — Why, Lord bless you, no ! He 
died above eighty year ago !’ I may say that I sent him a present 
of game ; but he died a few days after its arrival. I hope the 
change of diet, firom pork pies to roast pheasant, was not 
responsible for this dire result. 

I have just (April, 1936) seen and talked with a dear old lady 
who lives at the Boat House at Murthly on the Tay. Her name 
is Maggie Miller, and she will be no less than a hundred and six 
years old if she survives until September. [My wife visited her in 
April 1937, and found her in excellent health and spirits; but 
she died during the summer.] She told me that in her youth 
she was in service in London, and well remembered seeing 
the troops march through Hyde Park on their way to the 
Crimea. She seems to enjoy very good health, and is very well 
and lovingly cared for by her two nieces, both of whom, I 
believe, are over seventy. 

A few years ago, there was an old man named Mellors Hving 
near Welbeck, who was also said to be rising a hundred. All 
sorts of presents were given to him, and the Archduke Franz 
Ferdinand and his wife, who were then our guests, paid him 
a visit. The poor old boy was a bit of a fraud, however, for when 
he died he was found to be under ninety. 

In August 1929, we were honoured by a visit from the present 
King and Queen, then T.R.H. the Duke and Duchess of York, 
who graciously consented to open the Orthopaedic Hospital at 



'>ack: Major Baker-Garr, Maggie Sutherland. 

\ont: A. Sutherland, Winifred Portland, Queen of the Belgians, King of the 
Belgians, Ivy Titchfield, Victoria Wemyss, Miss S. Alexander-Sinclair. 

November, 1912 

Harlow Wood, near Mansfield, in which my wife takes such a 
great and abiding interest. Their Royal Highnesses performed 
the ceremony with great kindness, and everybody was delighted 
to see them. Amongst our other guests were the Duke of Nor- 
folk, Lord and Lady Linlithgow, Lord and Lady Hartington, 
Lord and Lady Spencer, Lady Desborough, Lord Eldon, Lord 
Hugh Cecil and Count Guy de Baillet. Lady Helen Graham 
and Rear-Admiral Basil Brooke were in waiting upon T.R.H. 

The first occasion when H.R.H. the Prince of Wales 
honoured us with his presence at Welbeck was in July, 1923, 
when he made a tour of the mining and other industrial dis- 
tricts in the neighbourhood. H.R.H. and I left Welbeck at 
about nine o’clock in the morning, visited Mansfield, Sutton-in- 
Ashfield, Hucknall, Nottingham and other places, and did not 
return until after eight in the evening. Throughout the day, 
H.R.H. took the most keen and intelligent interest in the vast 
number of people through whom he passed. Whenever he saw 
ex-service men, in particular members of the British Legion, he 
stopped the car and talked to them; and I could see from his face 
and theirs how keen his interest in them was, and how much they 
appreciated his presence and the remarks which he made to them. 

When we returned home, I said, ‘Well — thank goodness 
that’s well over!’ ‘Ah!’ replied H.R.H., ‘it’s all very well ioryou 
to say so. It may be over for you, but it’s never, never over for 
me. Most of my days are like this, and there seems to be no end 
to it. All the same, I love seeing the people, and I’ll willingly 
spend my life in trying to help them. I only hope I may succeed 
in doing so’. 

The Prince was again our honoured guest, this time at Ins 
own request, to meet the members of the Argentine Mission in 
1931. H.R.H. wrote to me that he had received wonderful hospi- 
tality in Argentina, and that he wished to do his best for the 
Mission: so would we invite the members of it to Welbeck? I 
replied that we should be delighted to do so, especially if he 
would be our guest as well. H.R.H. gladly fell in with the 


H.R.H. arrived in his aeroplane, and landed in the Park. My 
wife and I met him; and he at once suggested that she should 
take him, before he had had any tea, to inspect the Unemploy- 
ment Centres in which she takes such deep interest. She told me 
that H.R.H made himself quite charming to the men in the 
various clubs, and that they all seemed delighted to have him 
among them. He then returned to Welbeck to help us receive 
our guests, who arrived in time for dinner. 

The Prince made himself most helpful and charming to 
everyone. I was specially struck by his kindness when I urged 
him to take a little recreation, and to play golf whilst I enter- 
tained his friends. He said on no account would he do so; he had 
brought them to Welbeck, and he was determined to make their 
visit as pleasant and agreeable as possible. 

Among our other guests were Dr. Julio Roca, Vice-President 
of the Argentine Republic, His Excellency the Argentine Ambas- 
sador and Sehora Malbran, Dr. M. A. de Garcano, the Minister 
of Agriculture, Senora de Carcano, and their daughter Stella, the 
Duke of Northumberland, Lord and Lady SaHsbury, Lord and 
Lady Lovat, Lord Eldon, Countess Sophie Clary, the Rt. Hon. 
William and Lady Beatrice Ormsby-Gore, Admiral Sir Henry 
Buller, Major Hugh Lloyd Thomas, and Major Eric Crank- 

Senora de Garcano was a very beautiful woman, and her daugh- 
ter was the same, besides being a very clever, quick-witted girl. 
When we visited the Prince’s farm at Lenton, near Notting- 
ham, we were shown a fine herd of cattle; and a particularly 
beautiful heifer was pointed out to Stella. She did not under- 
stand, and asked me, ‘What is a beautiful heifer?’ — so, in fun, 
I replied, ‘You are a beautiful heifer yourself.’ Stella at once 
remarked, ‘I do not mind your calling me a heifer, particularly 
a beautiful one; but I do not like the suggestion that my mother 
is a cow ; and I shall tell her what you said !’ 

At the close of this party, H.R.H. was the first to sign his 
name in a new volume of the Visitors’ Book, adding on the 
blank leaf opposite the words, ‘Good luck to Welbeck’. 


This was the last Welbeck party Simon Lovat attended. He 
died very suddenly within a week of leaving our house. By his 
death Scodand lost one of her most gallant soldiers and best and 
most capable citizens, and the King a most loyal, true and de- 
voted subject. 

On December 5th, 1929, 1 was fortunate enough to complete 
my fiftieth year as Duke of Portland. My tenants and friends 
were so kind and good as to express their pleasure and satis- 
faction; and they gave me a charmingly worded address,^ 
at the same time making a generous present to my wife. We 
celebrated the event by a party in the house, and two numerous- 
ly attended balls took place in the undergroimd rooms, at each 
of which about a thousand guests were present. The presenta- 
tions were made during the first ball, when dancing was kept up 
till the early hours of the morning. We were both deeply 
touched by the kindness and good feeling shown to us, which we 
sincerely reciprocate. 

Among the almost countless friends whom it has been our 

^Your Grace, 

On the occasion of the Fiftieth Anniversary of your succession to the Duke- 
dom, we, the Tenants of your Estates in Nottinghamshire, Derbyshire, Northum- 
berland, Ayrshire, Caithness and North Lynn, desire to place on permanent record 
how gladly we welcome this happy event. 

Few of \is have been fortunate enough to have our tenure under you for the whole 
period, many can look back however over a number of years in that position, some 
only for a short space, others for a longer, but we are all united in a sense of grati- 
tude to you, deepening as the years go on. 

We are conscious that Your Grace’s relations with us have always been marked 
by personal interest in our welfare, unfailing encouragement in our work, and un- 
usual kindness in all your dealings with us your neighbours. 

On our part we wish to assure Your Grace that you have united us to the Duchess 
and yourself by ties which have grown from those of duty to those of true and re- 
spectful affection. For these reasons we ask you to accept this outward expression of 
our real fiiendship towards you both. At the same time we desire to express the 
hope that your lives may be long continued in health and in the enjoyment of the 
harvest of good will which you have both richly deserved from your services in the 
years that are past. 

Signed on behalf of the Tenants : 

Sam Booth. A. FitzHerbert Wright. James W. Donald. 

W, E. Cox. Cecil A. Cochrane. J. M, Rutherford. 

W. Antgliff- John Dungait. 

Qth December^ 



pleasure to entertain, I remember the Marquis de Several with 
particular affection and respect. On many occasions he was a 
most welcome guest at Welbeck and in London: in fact, we con- 
sidered no party complete without him, for with him present it 
was bound to be a success, because he made everyone happy 
and appear at their best. He had a real genius for society. For- 
tunately he did not care for shooting, or any other sport; but, 
being a most pleasant and charming companion, he kept all the 
ladies happy and, young or old, they rejoiced in his company. 
One very cold and threatening morning, the late King Edward, 
who was our guest at the time, was going out to shoot. He found 
Several warming himself by the fire in the Gothic Hall^ and 
remarked, ‘Well, Several: I don’t think you are a very keen 
sportsman!’ ‘Pas enrag6, votre Majeste,’ answered Several, with 
a twinkle in his eye ; ‘pas enrage.’ 

When Several first came to this country, his English was an 
almost word-for-word translation from French. He happened 
to be at a luncheon party when his hostess said, ‘I hear you 
have been imwell, M. de Several, I am so glad you are better. 
What was the matter?’ ‘Dear Madame, it was nothing — really 
nothing at all,’ repHed Several; ‘only a little of the gout in the 
bottom [aufond].’ 

Several held a unique position in society, being a great 
favourite of Queen Victoria and of the Prince and Princess of 
Wales, as indeed he was of everyone. He well deserved this 
affection, for a more kindly and loyal friend, not only to private 
individuals but to Great Britain as well, could not be found. I 
always admired his manner at the various Court ceremonies he 
attended: for, although he was on intimate terms with every 
member of the Royal Family, he made his obeisance to them 
with the utmost respect, as though he had never met them 

After a temporary return to Portugal, where he remained 
for some little time, he came back to London as Portuguese 
Minister. When I greeted him I said, ‘How long shall you 
be staying in England?’ and he replied with emphasis, ‘For the 



From Vanity Fair. See Appendix VII 

From Vanity Fair. See Appendix VII 

rest of my life, I hope: for, in my opinion, it is the best country — 
in fact the only country — ^in Europe to live in.’ 

He was an exceedingly clever and far-seeing man, and a born 
diplomat. I remember that in April, 1918, when everything 
appeared to be going badly at the Front, he said to me, ‘Why 
are you all so depressed? There is no need for that. I am per- 
fectly certain that this is Germany’s last effort; it has already 
failed; and you have won the War. So cheer up, all of you!’ He 
died in France in 1922, and I visited his grave in Pere La- 
chaise Cemetery, which I am glad to say I found in beautiful 

After his death. Lord Rosebery vvTote to King Manuel of 
Portugal as follows: 

Dalmeny House, 
October ph, 1922. 

T cannot refrain from intruding on you with regard to the 
death of our dear friend Soveral. No Sovereign ever had a truer 
servant or friend than Your Majesty had in him, and I feel most 
deeply for your loss, which is exceptional. To all of us he was 
the most charming of companions and the truest of friends. In- 
deed, I doubt if any death since that of King Edward will leave 
so large a gap in society. He was, moreover, a consummate 
diplomatist, perhaps the best in my circle of knowledge. . . . 

• (Crewe, Lord Rosebery, 1 93 1 , II, 653) . 

Count A. Mensdorff, Austro-Hungarian Ambassador in Lon- 
don before the Great War, was a great friend of Soveral and also 
an intimate friend of ours ; and I am glad to say that we very 
often see him when he returns to England. He held in some 
ways a unique position in England. He was a distant connection 
by marriage of Queen Victoria, and H.M. gave him the rare 
honour of wearing the Windsor uniform at dinner, when he was 
a visitor at the Castle. 

I also knew Count Karolyi, who was Austro-Hungarian 
Ambassador to this country. I think Countess Karolyi was one 
of the most beautiful and charming women I ever knew. I 
visited Budapest for the Millennium of the Hungarian Nation in 


1 896, a good many years after the death of Count Karolyi, and I 
think, even then, Countess Kdrolyi was the most lovely woman 
to be seen. 

Count and Countess Deym succeeded them as Ambassador 
and Ambassadress, and they too were intimate and charming 
friends of ours. I need not refer here to Count Charles Kinsky, 
another Austrian diplomat and sportsman whom I met in the 
hunting field, as I have already done so in my book Memories of 
Racing and Hunting. Then there was dear old Monsieur de Staal 
and his wife, the Russian Ambassador and Ambassadress. He 
was, to my mind, a typical diplomat. Though I beheve he could 
speak English as well as I can, or perhaps better, he always 
insisted on talking French. He was several times our guest 
at Welbeck, and everyone regretted his departure and return 
to Russia. 

One of the first ladies I knew who came across the Atlantic 
(God forbid that I should call it the Herring Pond!) was 
Consuelo, Duchess of Manchester. When she arrived in 
London, as Miss Yznaga, she took Society completely by storm 
by her beauty, wit and vivacity, and it was soon at her very 
pretty feet. She married Lord Mandeville, the eldest son and 
heir of the Duke and Duchess of Manchester,^ and became the 
mother of lovely twin girls, Mary and Alice. I shall never 
forget their beauty when they were our guests at Langwell; 
but alas, both of them died of consumption within the next 
few years. Natica, the widow of Sir John Lister- Kaye, a great 
friend of mine, is her sister. 

Consuelo was very often our guest; in fact, we never con- 
sidered that any party was complete without her dear and witty 
presence. Looking back, I can still see everyone crowded round 
her at tea-time, all happily laughing at her continual flow of 
witty and amusing stories delivered in a charming, soft Southern 
voice, for she was a native of Cuba. One of these stories 
occurs to me. When in an hotel, she was in what she called 
*a fixed bath’ when, to her horror, the door suddenly opened^ 
^Afterwards Duchess of Devonshire, 


(Violet Rutland, 1933) 

Given to her mother, whose name is also Stella 
("Violet Granby, 1894) 

(J. S. Sargent) 


and. in walked a man. ^How awful! What did you do?’ every- 
one asked. “^My dear, I just covered myself with soap-suds, 
and sat down in the water as deep as I could. Such, how- 
ever, was the good feeling of the man that he turned round, 
opened the door and, as he went out, said, “I beg your 
pardon, SIR, for my intrusion!” Everyone loved this story, 
and our guests often said, ‘Now, Consuelo, tell us about the 
fixed bath.'' She had many other stories, but that is the one I 
remember best. 

Another brilliant American was Miss Jennie Jerome, a 
beautiful brunette with flashing eyes, and with great charm and 
ability as well. As is well known, she married the famous Lord 
Randolph Churchill, and was the mother of the equally, if not 
more, famous Winston. Her sisters were Leonie, now Lady LesHe 
of Glaslough, and Clara, who married Mr. Moreton Frewen. 
Another very beautiful American was Miss AdMe Grant, who 
married my old fnend George Capell, afterwards Earl of Essex. 

Among other old and dear friends are General Laurence 
Drummond and his beautiful wife, who have often been our 
guests at Welbeck and Langwell, and who brought H.I.H. 
Prince Chichibu of Japan to LangweU in 1925. I have already 
alluded to this visit in Chapter IX of Fijiy Years and More of 
Sport in Scotland. 

No recollections of my life would be complete without very 
warm and affectionate mention of my wife’s uncle, dear Sir 
Henry Graham, Clerk of the Parliaments, father of Sir Ronald 
Graham, the eminent diplomat who was for twelve years 
British Ambassador in Rome, and of Captain Harry Graham, 
Coldstream Guards, who rendered distinguished service during 
the Great War, and was the author of Ruthless Rhymes and a 
great number of other successful books and plays. 

Sir Henry Graham was a very good musician. He loved 
extemporising upon the piano, and composed many amusing 
songs. Among the best of these were the ‘Fairy of the Ring’, and 
several most entertaining medleys in which classical, operatic 
and topical music were ingeniously blended. I well remember 


that he and Fred Milner most amusingly acted a burlesque of 
Rjomeo and Juliet, and kept us laughing— laughing— laughing. 
He was also a keen and most excellent fisherman. 

Early in the War Sir Henry suffered from cataract, and for 
two years became gradually more and more blind, until it was 
possible for the usual operation to be performed. When this was 
successfully over, a friend said, ‘I expect you find the world a 
good deal changed. What surprises you most?’ Without hesi- 
tation Sir Henry repHed, ‘The legs of the ladies. When I went 
blind, you could see nothing but their shoes; but now you can 
see a great deal more than that — ^rather too much, perhaps !’ 

Among our oldest and very dearest friends and guests are 
Willy and Ettie Desborough, renowned for their hospitality at 
beautiful Taplow Court and, since the death of Lord Gowper in 
1905, at Panshanger. Lord Cowper was one of the most hand- 
some and distinguished-looking men I ever saw, and Lady 
Gowper a remarkably beautiful woman. My wife and I were 
their guests at Panshanger at both summer and winter parties. 
Ettie has a perfect talent as a hostess. She not only makes every- 
one feel at home in her company but, by her sympathy, under- 
standing and kindness, gives everyone the charming sensation 
of being her most favoured guest. That, at least, is the feeling I 
invariably have when I am in either of her houses, which I al- 
ways enter with joy and leave with regret. 

The sofa shown in plate 38 was the property of Ettie’s great- 
grandmother, Lady Gowper, who 2ifterwards married Lord 
Palmerston ; and the taharet with which it is covered is also found 
on the furniture bought by the late Duke of Portland at the sale 
of Lady Palmerston’s effects at Cambridge House, in 1869 or 
1870. I gave chairs covered with this taharet to Alice Salisbury, 
Ettie, MabeU Airlie and Lady Hambleden, who are all Lady 
Palmerston’s great-grandchildren, and another to her great- 
great-grandchild Lady Hartington. 

Dear old Willy is one of the world’s greatest athletes and 
sportsmen ; and his brains seem to me nearly on a par with his 
activity and strength, as is shown by his having been elected an 


Honorary Fellow of Balliol College, Oxford, in 1928. I write 
nearly advisedly, for if they were quite as good he would be that 
tiresome thing, a prodigy, instead of being, as he is, a very able 
man and a first-rate and most useful citizen of his country. A 
list of his remarkable athletic successes will be found below but 
the crowning achievement of his life, athletic or otherwise, was 
his marriage to Ettie Fane. In this I am sure my dear old friend 
will entirely agree. 

Their eldest son, Julian, who wrote the beautiful poem Into 
Battle, I knew very well; their second son Billy, who won the 
Newcastle Scholarship at Eton as an Oppidan and, later, BaUiol 
and Graven Scholarships at Oxford, I saw less frequently. I 
know, however, that they were both young men of a good deal 
more than average abihty, and no doubt, if they had survived, 

^Harrow. Played in the Harrow elevens of 1873 and 1874. In 1873 four 

wickets for 27 runs in the first innings, including those of the Hon. Edward and 
Alfred Ly tdeton. Harrow won by 5 wickets. 

In 1874 Lord Desborough was awarded the School bowling and catching prizes 
for that year. He won the School Mile in 4 mins. 37 secs, a school record for more 
than sixty years. 

Oxford. Ran in the three-mile race against Cambridge. Rowed in the dead-heat 
Boat Race of 1877, ^^ 7 ^ crew, which won by ten lengths. Was Presi- 

dent of the Oxford University Athletic Club and the Oxford University Boat Club, 
and Master of the Drag Hounds. 

Alps, Climbed a good deal in the Alps in 1876, ’77, ’79. Ascended the Matter- 
horn three times by different routes. 

Punting, Won Punting Championship of the Thames three successive years* 

Fencing. Won the Foils at Harrow and Oxford, also the fipee at the Military 
Tournaments in 1904 and 1906. Represented England in four International Com- 
petitions including the Olympic Games in Athens 1906. 

Rowing. Stroked an eight in a clinker-built sliding-seat boat from Dover to Calais 
in 1885, and sculled from Oxford to Putney, 105 miles, in the day, with two 
others in a treble sculling boat in 1889. 

Swimming. Swam twice across Niagara pool, starting as near the Falls as possible, 
in 1 884 and 1888. 

Stalking and Fishing. Elilled 100 Scotch stags in one season; and 100 tarpon in 
three weeks in Florida. 

Presidencies^ Past and Present. O.U.A.G., O.U.B.C., M.C.C., Amateur Athletic 
Association. Lawn Tennis Association. Wimbledon Lawn Tennis Club. Fencing 
Association. Wrestling Association and the Olympic Games of London, 1908. 

Coaching. Past President of the Four-in-hand Driving Club, and of the Coaching 


they would have gained distinguished positions in life. Julian 
was a first-class boxer and sportsman — in fact, he always seemed 
to me a perfect specimen of a young Englishman. The stalkers 
at Langwell and Braemore still talk of him as one of the finest 
walkers they have ever seen, especially over the rough ground 
at Braemore, when in pursuit of what his father calls ‘Forsin- 

It will be seen from the footnote that in 1884 Willy swam 
across Niagara pool as near as possible to the Falls. In 1888 he 
swam across it again, to show Mr. J. E. C. Milburn that it could 
be done. Mr. Milburn was a distinguished American lawyer 
who lived at Buffalo, and President McKinley was a guest in his 
house when he was assassinated at Buffalo Exhibition. He was 
the father of Devereux Milburn, the famous back in the Cham- 
pion American Polo Team. Mr. Milburn, who was crossing to 
America by the same boat, had heard that Willy had swum 
across the pool just below the falls of Niagara, and expressed 
surprise almost amounting to doubt ; so Willy, then on his way 
to a shooting expedition in the Rockies, said that if he would 
meet him at Niagara he would do it again. 

They duly met at Niagara, but the day was so unpropitious, 
owing to hail and snow, that they decided to put it off till the 
next day, and adjourned to Mr. Milburn’s house at Buffalo. 
The next day was no better as regards the weather; there were 
some storms of snow, and many difficulties were encoimtered — 
so much so that Mfilburn became very anxious and tried to dis- 
suade WiUy from the attempt. But it had to be done, and was 
done. The officials on the spot, which had been taken over by 
the Government, would give no help or advice. Willy tells me 
that he started in a back eddy, hit a rock with his right foot, and 
looking up through the spray, which is very heavy there, found 
that instead of swimming across, as he imagined he was doing, 
he was being taken by the backwash towards the Falls, which he 
saw above his head. This would have been rather a formidable 
ghQWf^-b^tib, so he struck out for the middle, and at last landed 
safely on the Canadian side. 


When Willy told me this, I asked him whether Ettie was not 
very proud of him. ‘Proud?’ he answered — ‘No, not at all! She 
pretended to be terribly angry with me, and demanded to 
know why I had tried to make her a widow, though she was 
glad Providence had thwarted my nefarious design!’ I also 
asked him whether the feat was very difficult. He said that, for a 
really strong swimmer, it was not, provided his head was cool, 
and that he kept his legs as near to the surface as possible, to 
avoid the pull of the under-current. ‘The second time I did it,’ 
he added ; ‘just for a minute or two, I really did think something 
might go wrong.’ 

When on a hunting expedition in the Rocky Mountains, 
Willy had another adventure, from which he was fortunate to 
escape with his life. Having made a bet with a friend that he 
would shoot an animal before breakfast, he set out alone one 
morning. On attempting to return to camp, he found he had 
lost his bearings ; and he spent two days and two nights wander- 
ing in the mountains, until he was rescued by a solitary trapper 
and taken back to his party. Willy afterwards wrote an inter- 
esting account of this experience, which appeared in the Nine- 
teenth Century of May, 1892, under the title ‘Lost in the Rockies’; 
and he has now been good enough to make an abridgement of 
it, which will be found in Appendix No. IV. 

Ettie has kindly written her early recollections of Welbeck, 
with which I conclude this chapter. 

‘Winnie and Portland married in June, 1889, two years after 
we did, and WiUy and I went to stay with them for the first 
time in September of that year, at Langwell, three months after 
their wedding. It was the first of many happy visits to them, and 
Welbeck and all the Portlands’ houses have been a constant 
centre of delight in both our lives all through the intervening 
years. I don’t think that anyone can ever have been with Winnie 
and Portland without receiving a new impulse to kindness, be- 
cause kindness has always shone out of everything they say and 
do, and the impression never wavers that, they will take any 
trouble in the world to help other people; it is as natural and 


inevitable to them as breathing. Someone said the other day, “I 
do wish that everybody would not take it for granted that I 
have a kind heart and plenty of leisure.” They would have been 
quite safe in assuming both these facts with the Portlands. 
When King George and Queen Mary paid their State Visit to 
Welbeck in July, 1928, one of the most lovely things of all was 
to see, as they travelled about Nottinghamshire, the welcome 
given everywhere to ^^innie, who drove^ in the motor just be- 
hind the one occupied by the King and Queen and Pordand. 
It was as if the crowds, in the overwhelming loyalty of their 
greeting to Their Majesties, wished her too to lose no sight of 
their adoration and gratitude, and it touched her at times to the 
point of tears. Indeed she has worked for those people her whole 
life long, and the story of what she has done for the sick and 
suffering among the miners can never be fully told. Darling 
Winnie had then been married for thirty-nine years, but the 
shouts were still for ‘‘the young Doochess”, and she looked 
the part infallibly. 

‘How many recollections come back to memory of those en- 
chanting parties, and the beloved friends who were so often 
there, Gonsuelo Manchester, Soveral, the Ripons, the Salis- 
burys, the Kenmares, Arthur Balfour, Cynthia Graham, Simon 
Lovat (and — Plater on — ^his wife Laura, most lovely and loved of 
beings), the Islingtons, Evan Gharteris, B. Garr, Mollie Sneyd, 
Hugh Cecil, Wilty,® Lord Kitchener, John Revelstoke, the 
D’Abemons, MensdorjBf, the George Gurzons. The two latter 
were staying there in November, 1898, just before they went out 
to govern India. There was a great ball at Clumber one night, 
and, on returning to Welbeck in the early morning, in a per- 
fectly opaque fog, one of the carriages lost its way and went 
crashing into glass “frames” in some market or kitchen garden. 
We never found out whose property we had damaged. George 
and Mary Curzon had been staying at Panshanger a week or 
two before: the train was late at the tiny station of Cole Green 

^With Cosmo Lang, then Archbishop of York, and now of Canterbury. P 

*Lord Winchester, P 


when the guests were returning to London, and George thought 
it best to telegraph to Hatfield to have the London train kept 
there for him, as he had an important appointment. Portland 
and I were amused to hear the gruff old country station-master 
spelling out the message, to make sure he had got it right, “Lord 
Curzon — of— Kedleston — ^Viceroy — ^De — ^Des — ^Designate — Why, 
yer’ll be there yerself before the wire !” 

‘A great shooting-party at Welbeck before that one — in 
December, 1897 — was for King Edward and Queen Alexandra, 
then Prince and Princess of Wales. The lovely Princess was fond 
of bridge, and played a pecuHar form of her own. Winnie played 
too, but had difficulty in what she called “sorting her tribes”, 
and could only do this if she stood up. Louise, Duchess of 
Devonshire, watched this game with some surprise. 

‘A happy Summer party was in August, 1899. Lord Kitchen- 
er was one of the guests, not long after the River War. There 
was, as usual in August there, a great Agricultural Show in the 
Park. There was also a tremendous wind, and, when Portland got 
up to speak, the whole of his notes blew away: they contained, 
necessarily, a good many statistics, but he jnade his complete 
speech without their aid, and with the greatest composure. 

‘Another summer gathering comes to mind, in August, 1904, 
when the alterations and rebuilding after the fire at Welbeck 
were completed, and when Mr. Chamberlain made one of his 
first great platform speeches, after leaving the Government, on 
Protection, to a gigantic audience in the riding school. 

‘A terrific thunderstorm came on, and the noise of the hail 
on the glass roof, and the chattering of the sparrows under 
it, drowned even Mr, Chamberlain’s superlative voice, and for a 
few minutes there was great confusion; some of the crowds at 
the back, who couldn’t hear a word, began to play football 
with their hats, and for a very short time it seemed to be touch- 
and-go. But it was amazing to watch the swiftness with which 
“Joe” recaptmred the attention of his hearers, 2 ls the storm 
mercifully moderated. 

‘A popular peer in the Welbeck party was handed a sequence 


of telegrams during that meeting. He divulged their contents to 

a favoured few. “This is from the Emperor of . He is deeply 

interested in the meeting, and wishes it all success.” “Ah, this is 
from Admiral from Japan.” “Here is one from Washing- 
ton, my old friend. Senator .” It was never quite known if 

he meant these messages to be taken as a joke, or whether he 
really expected his friends to be impressed by this very striking 
co-ordination of world-time. 

‘There was a memorable shooting-party and ball in Novem- 
ber, 1907, for the young King Alfonso and Queen Ena of Spain 
who were staying in England that autumn. Someone rather 
rashly asked him about the great tragedy on their wedding-day, 
and whether it had not affected his nerves. He said, so very 
simply and gently, “No. You see I do really believe in God.” 

‘But memories crowd too quickly to be set down here. In 
August, 191 1, we had the happiness of taking our eldest daugh- 
ter, Monica, who had come out in that wonderful Coronation 
year, to her first Welbeck party, a huge gathering of what dear 
Desmond FitzGerald, who was there, pohtely called “very 
young, and rather young”. In April, 1914, Titchfield’s great 
coming-of-age party took place, and all its festivities, and, four 
months afterwards, came the War. 

‘I must end with the week in January, 1930, when so many 
old friends and young met at Welbeck, fifty years after Port- 
land’s succession, to take part in the rejoicings of the whole 
neighbourhood, rich and poor. It was, perhaps, one of the most 
touching experiences in the long lives of many of the Portlands’ 
contemporaries: certainly no contemporaries in any era can 
ever have been blessed with more perfect friends, in shadow 
and sunshine, than those two.’ And so ends Ettie’s charming 
little contribution to these pages. 

I had the great pleasure of saying a few words at a little meet- 
ing held at 18, Carlton House Terrace, on February 17th, 1937 
to celebrate Willy and Ettie’s Golden Wedding; and I should 
like to add them to what I have already written: 



Shimi is now 1 5th Lord Lovat 


(Violet Granby, 1894) 

‘I have been asked by Her who simply must be obeyed,^ to say 
a very few words, and it gives me great pleasure to do so — in the 
first place, because this party is entirely informal; and in the 
second place, because I am sure we are all one in our feeling of 
warm and affectionate friendship for Ettie and Willy Des- 

‘The reason of our being here is very simple. It is to wish the 
two dear people to whom I have alluded, continued life and 
happiness, and to congratulate them upon having reached 
their Golden Wedding Day. It is difficult to believe it, however, 
for, such is their vim and general outlook on life, that it might 
well be their Silver Wedding instead of their Golden Anniver- 
sary. But a certain book, which I have heard sometimes dis- 
respectfully alluded to as the Snoh^s Bible, ruthless as it is with 
regard to the age of men, though generally and happily more 
merciful to women, records the hard fact that their wedding 
took place on February 17th, 1887. 

‘During the fifty years which have passed since then, nearly 
all of us have continually enjoyed their charming hospitality, 
meeting both beauty, brains and muscle at the delightful 
parties which they so often give in their lovely country homes. 
In the winter, some of us have shot at, sometimes have joyfully 
killed, but much more often, alas, have sorrowfully missed, the 
very high-flying pheasants — I know of none higher — over the 
celebrated Panshanger woods, especially at the far-famed stand 
known as the Chisel Shelf, where the boughs of the high, over- 
hanging trees must be so full of shot fired behind the tails of 
escaping rocketers, that I wonder they do not grow lead pencils 
instead of leaves during the spring! In the summer too, many of 
you, no doubt, have spent restful and dehghtful afternoons on 
the river at Xaplow, either in boats, or better still, have been 
punted with ease and skill by the foremost exponent of that art , 
for as a waterman, Willy Desborough is well known to be at the 
head of the River, over both amateurs and professionals. Long 
may he continue to hold that distinction. I am sure you will all 

^Otherwise Mary Minto- 


join with me in sincere and heartfelt congratulations to him 
upon his fortunate recovery, after the serious illness which over- 
took him, and caused us all such terrible anxiety, only a short 
time ago. 

‘As for dear Ettie — as her friends (and I hope she will allow 
me to include myself among them) are privileged to call her — I 
think it is sufficient to say that her reputation as a hostess is un- 
rivalled ; her charm is magnetic ; her friendship is constant and 
true; her kindness is unfailing. It is no wonder that, men and 
women alike, all love and adore her. 

‘It has, I am sure, given their intimate friends great happi- 
ness and satisfaction to be able to unite in a Golden Wedding 
present, which we hope they will do us the honour, and give us 
the infinite pleasure, to accept. Owing to unavoidable delays, 
the gift is not yet quite ready; but we hope to have an oppor- 
timity of making the presentation a little later. For that reason 
all we can do on this occasion is to give them this little book. It 
contains the names of many devoted friends who wish them 
every blessing in the world.’ 

Willy Desborough then made the following reply: 

‘On behalf of Lady Desborough who, I have every reason to 
know, is much better qualified to do it for herself, I give our 
thanks to the Duke of Portland — I suppose now my oldest 
friend — for his very great goodness in coming here to make this 
presentation; and to Lady Minto for her tact, genius and or- 
ganising capacity, inspired by eiffection, which has made this 
occasion possible; and last but not least to all our old friends 
present here to-day. 

‘I can understand your coming to congratulate Lady Des- 
bordugh, whose keen and sympathetic interest in the joys and 
sorrows of her many friends and acquaintances, poor as well as 
rich, has earned her a prominent part in their love. As regards 
myself, I sometimes wonder that I have a friend left, as I am apt 
to bore my acquaintances with the number of gallons which go 
over Teddington Weir, and kindred matters. 

‘The Duke has said something about the passing of time, and 



it is said that women are as old as they look, and men as old as 
they feel. All questions of looks I leave entirely to Lady Des- 
borough. But I must tell you that, as regards myself, I experi- 
enced rather a shock the other day. In the course of my re- 
searches connected with a fixed Easter and calendar reform, I 
was rather surprised and horrified to find that I was two years 
older than Methuselah. Adam, Noah and Methuselah ap- 
parently belong to an era of the Hebrew Calendar when 
lunar months of about 29^ days were counted as years. So 
instead of living 969 years (which an irreverent boy said he 
took for his telephone number), Methuselah was only 79 when 
he was cut off; Adam was 75 and not 930, and Noah 77 in- 
stead of 950. Abraham and Isaac, who Hved in an era when five 
months went to the year, were only 72 and 74; mere striplings, 
in fact. 

‘But perhaps I had better get off the Patriarchs, or I shall 
lose my few remaining friends, and come to the matter in 

‘As regards Lady Desborough and myself, I am glad to say 
that, in the words of the King’s most gracious speech from the 
Throne, relations continue to be friendly, and long may they 
remain so. A litde girl once asked her mother, “Why did you 
marry Daddy?” and all the mother said was, “So you have be- 
gun to wonder too.” I do not know whether any of my children 
have asked my wife the same question, or what her answer was, 
though I hope to find out; but this perhaps is a matter for a less 
pubHc occasion. 

‘Fifty years is a long period, and I should hke to give a brief 
synopsis of the changes which have taken place socially, pohti- 
cally, athletically and economically during that period; but 
perhaps I had better not, and I join to the fuU in the very 
general wish that I should sit down. In sitting down I should 
like to reiterate our most grateful thanks to the Duke, to Lady 
Minto, and to all of you, our kind friends, who have given us 
such pleasure by coming here to welcome us on the day of our 
Golden Wedding.’ 


I think the following touching lines are most appropriate to 
the lives and characters of both Willy and Ettie Desborough: 

It is easy enough to be pleasant 
When life flows by like a song, 

But the man worth while is the one who will smile 
When everything goes dead wrong. 

For the test of the heart is trouble, 

And it always comes with the years, 

And the smile that is worth the praises of earth 
Is the smile that shines through tears. 

On May 27th, Frank Mildmay gave a party at his house in 
Berkeley Square, which unfortunately I was not able to attend, 
to celebrate the Golden Wedding of the Kenmares; and then, 
on June ist, we gave a house-warming party at 1 7 Hill Street, to 
celebrate the same happy occasion for the SaHsburys, thereby 
completing the triumphant trio. Nearly two hundred friends 
accepted the invitation, and H.M. Queen Mary honoured our 
house by her presence. Her Majesty presented a dinner service 
and a golden bell to the Desboroughs, and rather larger beUs 
to the Kenmares and SaHsburys. I venture to append the little 
speech I made. 

‘I assure your Majesty that not only my wife and I, but I am 
sure all our friends, are extremely grateful that you have been 
so kind and so gracious as to honour this Httle party by your 

‘My dear friends, 

‘ — I much prefer to address you in that way than by the more 
usual and formal commencement to a speech — 

‘We have invited you, who have so kindly contributed to- 
wards these Golden Wedding presents, to come here this after- 
noon, because a short time ago, AHce and Jim SaHsbury com- 
pleted fifty years since their Wedding Day. 

‘As I am sure you are aware, four other of our friends have 
also fortunately completed their fifty years of happy married 
life during the past few months. Taking them in the order of 
attainment — ^not in order of our affection for them, for if we did 


Welbeck Abbey, 1914 

so, I am sure we should take them all together — they are Ettie 
and Willy Desborough, and Elizabeth and Val Kenmare. Some 
of you, I know, think of them as Val and Elizabeth; but I ven- 
ture to say that I think of them as Elizabeth and Val. The anni- 
versaries of the Desboroughs and their Golden Weddings have 
already been celebrated; and now the day has come when we 
can sincerely congratulate Alice and Jim Salisbury on having 
celebrated their anniversary too. 

‘I am sure we all consider it a very happy, and at the same 
time rather curious coincidence, that they have all attained 
their Golden Weddings not only in the same year, but also 
within about four months of one another. I am quite certain 
too that we all wish to congratulate them most heartily on hav- 
ing been blessed with so many years of happy married life, 
during which, though all of them have many pubhc and other 
important duties to perform, they have yet found time to bestow 
upon us, their fnends, the cherished gift of their constant and 
true affection, which, I can assure them, is extremely precious 
to us and is warmly returned by us all. 

T will now ask them, on your behalf and on my own, to 
accept these small presents. 

Tn the case of WiUy and Ettie, to whom we will give their 
present first, as they are, so to speak, the senior members of the 
trio, our present is perhaps a rather smaller golden bell than 
the other two bells. With it, however, goes a plate — I need 
hardly say, one of a set. I venture to suggest that they should 
ring the bell for dinner, and use the dinner service, of which this 
is only a specimen, for its consumption. Please, dear WiUy and 
Ettie, don’t forget that I and others are sometimes hungry too. 

‘The other two presents are rather larger bells. I think it may 
not be altogether inappropriate to term them Golden Wedding 
Bells ; and I trust that our dear fiiends will always regard them 
in that happy light.’ 

H.M. Queen Mary then most kindly and graciously made the 
presentations. Unfortunately neither Jim Salisbury nor I kept 
any note of the witty and charming speech which he made in 



reply. In the words of a letter he wrote to me, ‘ I thought it 
over, of course, beforehand, and I may have had a note or two 
in my pocket, but am not sure. At any rate it is all vanished 
with the breath that uttered it.’ Every one of us thought that it 
was perfect, and we were all much moved. 



T he preservation of many of the works of art at Welbeck is 
unquestionably due, in the first place, to the able work and 
loving care of Lady Bolsover, of which I have already 
written. In 1896 the collection was entrusted to Mr. S. Arthur 
Strong, who had charge at the same time of the Duke of 
Devonshire’s library and pictures at Ghatsworth. When, in the 
following year, Mr. Strong became Librarian to the House of 
Lords, he continued to exercise occasional supervision of the 
collection for some time, and compiled a Catalogue of letters . - . 
exhibited in the Library at Welbeck^ which was pubUshed in 1903. 
A catalogue of the printed books in the library had already 
been made by Mr. John Nicholson of Lincoln’s Inn ; and Mr. 
Charles Fairfax Murray’s catalogue of the pictures appeared 
in 1894. 

In 1902, acting on the ever excellent advice of my wife’s dear 
mother, Mrs. DaUas-Yorke, I offered the post of Hbrarian to 
Mr. Richard W. Goulding of Louth, where he was already well 
known as a scholar and an antiquary. Mr. Goulding at once 
settled down to the difficult and somewhat compHcated work 
before him^ and soon gave evidence of the great industry and 
abihty which those who knew him in later years had constant 
reason to value and to acknowledge. 

One of his first duties at Welbeck was to help Mr. Lionel 
Cust^ to arrange and hang about six hundred pictures and 
prints, which had been displaced when the Oxford Wing was 
destroyed by fire in 1900; and I do not know what we should 
have done without his clear head and power of organisation. 
^Afterwards Sir Lionel Gust, K.G.V.O., Surveyor of the King’s pictures. 


In the years which followed, he was strenuously occupied 
with arranging and making catalogues of the family papers and 
works of art, which to him was a labour of love. Indeed, he came 
to regard every article at Welbeck with the most extraordinary 
affection, almost as if they were his own children. Of his work as 
an art-critic and historian, I quote the just and touching words^ 
of his friend Mr. C. H. Collins Baker, late surveyor of the King’s 
pictures : 

‘It is lamentably true that the death of R. W. Goulding, has 
struck a heavy blow at English art-scholarship. His scholarship 
was exact and scrupulous; he spared no pains and took no 
chances in verifying his research. There will hardly be a collec- 
tion of EngUsh portraits in this country where his authority was 
not prized. His work on the “Wriothesley Portraits” has been 
referred to; and his studies of “Gervase Holies”, “Henrietta, 
Countess of Oxford”, and “Sir Richard Kaye” are little monu- 
ments of his thorough method. But the work for which he is most 
widely honoured is his “Welbeck Abbey Miniatures”, published 
by the Walpole Society in 1916. Here Gfoulding took his place 
as the first authority on English miniatures, a field in which 
such scholarship had long been needed. Perhaps an even 
greater monument to his scrupulous and exact labours would 
have been the “Catalogue of the Welbeck Abbey Pictures”, 
on which he was engaged these many years, and his admirers 
may regret that he had not more opportunities for his artistic 
labours. To all those who knew his incorruptible sincerity and 
loyalty in friendship, the modesty and lovable shyness of his 
nature, and his deeply contained sense of fun and humour, R. 
W . Goulding’s loss will not be made good.’ 

Fortunately the catalogue of pictures to which Mr. Collins 
Baker refers was nearly completed at the time of Goulding’s 
death. It was afterwards edited for the press by Mr. C. K. 
Adams, of the National Portrait Gallery, and was published at 
Cambridge in 1936. 

From the outbreak of the Great War, in addition to his work 
^From Tfw Tinwj, November, 1929. 


as librarian which had accordingly to be curtailed though it 
was never abandoned, he acted as my private secretary; and I 
cannot speak too highly of the tact, courtesy and knowledge of 
human nature which he invariably displayed. In the summer 
of 1929 health failed; and to the deep and lasting regret of 
everyone connected with Welbeck, he died at his old home in 
Louth, on November 9th. By his passing I lost, not only a most 
able librarian, but a man whom I had learned to regard as a 
very dear friend and a faithful adviser in all my affairs. 

Richard Goulding was in many ways a very remarkable man. 
Though without the advantage of a University education, he 
became widely recognised as a profound and learned authority 
upon English portraiture and costume ; while as archivist and 
librarian he was a worthy successor of Humphrey Wanley,^ 
whose portrait stood always on his desk. But he was no dry-as- 
dust scholar: his knowledge and love of EngHsh literature, of 
the writings of his beloved Charles Lamb in particular, made 
the library at Welbeck a familiar and happy retreat for him ; he 
was, besides, deeply versed in botanical studies, which led him 
often into the open air; while under his natural reserve and 
scrupulous accuracy of speech, there lay a very frank, affection- 
ate and attractive personality. 

Though extremely quiet and courteous, he was quite able to 
hold his own when occasion arose. A well-known public man 
visited the Abbey one day, when I was away from home, and 
found his way to the Library. Goulding came forward, asked 
whether he wished to consult any special book or document, and 
brought the required volume, which they proceeded to discuss. 
In a few minutes’ time G. said, ‘You are Mr. Goulding, I pre- 
sume?’ Goulding, who had many times worked with him, and 
even regarded him as a friend, was naturally rather taken 
aback; but after a short interval he very quietly said, ‘I believe I 
have the honour of addressing Lord G. of K. Am I not right in 

^The famoTis library-keeper of Edward Harley, Earl of Oxford. Many of the pic- 
tures, manuscripts, etc., at Welbeck formerly belonged to Lord Oxford : so Gotdding 
was Wanley’s successor in fact as well as in spirit. 


my surmise?’ When I returned home, he told me what had 
passed, and said he hoped he had not exceeded the bounds of 
courtesy; but I very quickly set his mind at rest by replying, ‘I 
think he well deserved the retort, and I only wish I’d had the 
opportunity of making it myself!’ 

After Goulding’s death I consulted Sir Arthur Cowley, then 
Bodley’s Librarian, and at his suggestion offered the appoint- 
ment to his assistant Mr. Francis Needham, a graduate of the 
House. Mr. Needham has given me valuable help in writing 
this and my other books ; indeed, I could not have written them 
without him. 

It is impossible, within the limits of a chapter, to describe all 
the works of art and other relics of the past which the Abbey 
contains; nor is it necessary to rnake the attempt, as most of 
them have been carefully catalogued by the best authorities.^ 
But there are certain objects of, I think, outstanding interest 
which my guests often ask to be shown, and one or two little 
stories about them of too frivolous a nature to be included in 
any catalogue. So I propose to deal mainly with these ; and as 
the best means of doing so, I should like to take the reader on 
a short tour round part of the house. 

The entrance hall is a large, panelled room, with a fireplace 
of Derbyshire marble erected by the Countess of Oxford in 
1744. On the walls are three of a set of eight panels of horseman- 
ship tapestry, two others being in the Library, made at Antwerp 
for William Cavendish, Marquess of Newcastle, from designs by 
the Dutch painter van Diepenbeke. I may mention, too, a por- 
trait, by Gerard Soest, of Newcastle’s daughter. Lady Jane 
Cavendish (afterwards Cheyne®) who remained in charge of 
Welbeck during the Civil War, and saved her father’s silver- 
plate by having it buried under the brew-house floor. There is 
also an attractive portrait, probably by Adriaen Hanneman, of 

iTo those already mentioned, I may add the Catalogue of Plate by Mr, E. Alfred 
Jones, published by Messrs. W. H. Smith & Son in 1935. 

^Gheyne Walk, Chelsea, was named after her husband, Charles Cheyne, after- 
wards 1st Viscount Newhaven. They are both buried in Chelsea Old Church. 



her gallant young cousin Colonel Charles Cavendish, who dis- 
tinguished himself on the Royalist side, and was killed in 1643, 
during the siege of Gainsborough, at the age of twenty-three. I 
am attached to this picture, both for its own sake, and because 
it reminds me of the famous portrait of Claverhouse as a young 
man, belonging to Mrs. LesHe- Melville, which I think I would 
sooner possess than any other picture in the world. 

Between the entrance hall and the Gothic Hall is a small 
ante-room; and in this hangs a portrait of the famous Bess of 
Hardwick,^ wearing a black dress and four long ropes of pearls. 
I once showed it to two American ladies, and told them, ‘That 
is Bess of Hardwick.’ ‘Oh, indeed?’ they replied, probably 
never having heard of her. ‘Yes’, I said, ‘and she had four hus- 
bands.’ ‘Well’, remarked one of the ladies, ‘I guess that woman 
was a husband-waster, and no mistake.’ ‘But she didn’t do so 
badly,’ said the other: ‘four ropes of pearls — one from each hus- 
band, I suppose !’ As may be seen from the footnote, however, 
she received much more than pearls from at least three of them. 

The Gothic HaU. is a large and lofty room, decorated by 
Lady Oxford in the style known, from its most famous example, 
as Strawberry HiU Gothic. When I first came to Welbeck, for 
Christmas, 1879, we used this as a dining-room; but after the 
fire of 1900 it was made the chief sitting-room of the house. At 
the further end are portraits by the French painter, Hyacinthe 
Rigaud, of the ist Earl of Portland, his son (afterwards the ist 
Duke), and Matthew Prior the poet. These were painted at 
Paris in 1697-8, where the Earl of Portland was sent by WiUiam 
HI on a special Embassy to the Court of France, with Prior as 
his secretary. Evidently Rigaud was a temperamental person as, 
in a letter to the Earl, Prior calls him ‘that stuttering rogue 
Rygault’, and says, ‘I hasten him all I can, and flatter him 

^Elizabeth, daughter and co-heiress of John Hardwick of Hardwick, Go. Derby, 
married (i) Robert Barlow of Barlow, (2) Sir WilUam Cavendish, (3) Sir Wilham 
St. Loe, and (4) George Talbot, 6th Earl of Shrewsbury. Her father and her 
various husbands left her vast estates in Derbyshire, Nottinghamshire and Somer- 
set; and she built magnificent houses at Hardwick, Ghatsworth and Oldcotes. She 
died in 1608, ‘regretted, by none, as her temper had become very fouF. 


all I can, without which it is impossible to make him 
work’ ! On a small easel are drawings by Rubens and Polidoro. 
The Rubens, a splendidly modelled group of tritons and nereids, 
was lately proved by AJf . Neil Maclaren of the National Gallery 
to be the design, made about 1633, ivory salt which is 

now at Stockholm. Above these pictures is a portrait of William 
III by Wissing, traditionally believed to have been given by the 
King to the Earl of Portland. The story of Portland’s long and 
faithful service to King William, and of the remarkable friend- 
ship which existed between them, may be read in the pages of 
Macaulay. More than two hundred of the King’s letters to 
Portland still remain at Welbeck ; and they form, perhaps, the 
most intimate and valuable series of Royal letters in existence. 

At the lower end of the room are a marble plaque and a s mall 
bust, both by J. M. Rysbrack, of Lady Margaret Harley, after- 
wards Duchess of Portland, who first became famous, at seven 
years of age, as the heroine of Prior’s well-known lines, ‘My noble, 
lovely little Peggy’. Upon the death of her only brother when 
four days old, she became the heiress of the Cavendish, Holies 
and Harley families and, by her marriage to the 2nd Duke of 
Portland in i 734 > brought Welbeck into the possession of the 
Bentincks. This, no doubt, was clever of her j but I venture to 
think it was more clever still to be the mother of a son who was 
twice Prime Minister ! Later in life she became a friend of Mrs. 
Delany, in whose letters she is often mentioned. She also formed 
a great collection of antiquities and curiosities, known as the 
Portland Museum, which was sold after her death in 1 785. The 
Portland Vase, perhaps the most famous work of art in the 
possession of my family, was one of the treasures of this collec- 
tion, and was bought in by her son, the 3rd Duke. 

At the fur Aer end of the Gkithic Hall, two doors lead to a long 
corridor which runs the whole length of the south or Oxford 
win^ The main staircase is immediately opposite these doors; 
and here are hung two well-known paintings by George Stubbs, 
one of the 3rd DuLe of Portland on a white horse, and the other 
of the 3rd Duke and his brother. Lord Edward Bentinck, whose 

attractive nickname was Jolly Heart. I may say that I believe he 
fully lived up to it — ^very often in Paris. These two pictures have 
been exhibited many times, and are fine examples of Stubbs’s 
work at its very best. 

In the corridor, to the right, is a striking portrait by Sir 
Francis Grant of my great-uncle, the 4th Duke of Portland, 
when eighty-four years old, which was presented to him by 
nearly eight hundred of his tenants in December, 1852. He is 
shown in the dress he generally wore — a blue coat with brass 
buttons, leather breeches and top boots. Because of this, he was 
affectionately nicknamed ‘ Old Leather Breeches’ by his firiends 
and tenants in the neighbourhood of Welbeck. The riding- 
boots shown in the portrait are stiU preserved in the Abbey. The 
presentation was made by Col. W. S. Welfitt of Langwith 
Lodge, who was still alive when I succeeded to the estates in 
1879, and made me a presentation on behalf of the tenants. He 
told me that the Duke once said, “What other people term 
obstinacy, we Bentincks consider to be justifiable firmness !’ 

The 4th Duke was a man of considerable ability and very 
versatile gifts. Though he cared little for public life, he held the 
office of Lord Privy Seal in Canning’s short-lived administra- 
tion of 1827. His experiments in ship-building, carried out in 
his own shipyard at Troon in Ayrshire under the supervision of 
Captain (afterwards Sir William) Symonds, were taken up by 
the Admiralty, and led to considerable changes in the con- 
struction of gun-brigs. He was also widely known as a practical 
agriculturist of great experience and progressive views; and, 
among other Works, he made the famous water-meadows at 
Clipstone, thereby converting large tracts of waste heather-land 
into valuable grazing pastures. I need not enlarge upon his 
career, as it will be fiilly treated by Professor A. S. Turberville, 
in his forthcoming work on the history of Welbeck and its owners. 

Near the Gothic Hall is the House Library, formerly known 
as the Music Room, which we often use after dinner when we 
have guests. The room itself is only about a hundred years old, 
and is of little interest; but it contains a number of Stuart and 


other historical relics which are among our most cherished 

The oldest of these is an oriental dagger, the hilt and sheath 
of white jade studded with jacinths, which is believed on early 
authority to have been the property of King Henry VIII. It 
was in the famous collection formed between 1615 and 1646 by 
Thomas Howard, 2nd Earl of Arundel. When the remains of 
the Arundel collection were sold at Tart HalP in 1720, -Edward 
Harley, later 2nd Earl of Oxford, bought it for ^(^45. It has re- 
mained in the possession of my family ever since. 

Near the dagger is an enamelled and jewelled pendant of 
Renaissance design, set with a cameo portrait of Mary, Queen 
of Scots. It was given by Mary to Thomas Howard, 4th Duke of 
Norfolk, who was beheaded in 1572 on account of his corres- 
pondence with that unfortunate Queen. He was the grand- 
father of the 2nd Earl of Arundel, from whose collection this 
pendant, too, was acquired by Edward Harley in 1720. There 
is also a sardonyx cameo of three strata bearing a profile por- 
trait of Queen Elizabeth, mounted as a brooch in a heavy gold 
setting of the period. This was in the possession of the 2nd Lord 
Oxford in 1741, but I do not know how he acquired it. 

In the same case is a group of relics of King Charles I : his 
seal as Prince of Wales, carved on a 78-carat emerald; his gold 
toothpick and pearl ear-ring; and the chalice from which he 
received the Communion on the morning of his execution. As 
these objects are of special interest, I will describe them at 
rather more length. 

The emerald seal is cut in the shape of a six-sided cylinder, 
and is carved with trophies of arms and fruit in the style of about 
the end of the sixteenth century. At the top, which is pierced for 
suspension, is a sun-mask; and on the flat base is the seal, of 
the Prince’s crest, motto and coronet, with the initials C.P. 
From the way in which the base has been shortened, it seems 
likely that an earlier seal (perhaps that of James I or Henry, 

have heard that it stood on the site of Stafford House, now the London 


Cameo portrait of Queen Elizabeth 
Emerald Seal of Charles^ Prince of Wales 
Toothpick and Case of Charles I 
Pearl Earring of Charles I 

Authenticating paper in the handwriting of Queen Mary of Orange 


















§ 2 “ 

W P 

p p 
p^>< I 
^ 3 




















Prince of Wales) was removed, and that of Prince Charles cut 
in its place. This also was purchased by Edward Harley from 
the Arundel collection in 1720. 

The gold toothpick and case were given to Colonel Matthew 
Thomlinson by King Charles on the night before his execu- 
tion, After the Restoration, in his evidence at the trial of 
Colonel Hacker on October 15th, 1660, Colonel Thomlinson 
used these words: ‘That very night before his death he [the 
King] was pleased to give me a legacy, which was a gold tooth- 
picker and case, that he kept in his pocket.’^ From Colonel 
Thomlinson the toothpick passed to his sister Jane, Lady 
Twysden, and from her to her son, Sir Roger Twysden, the 
2nd Baronet. It descended by inheritance to the 3rd, 4th, 5th 
and 6th Baronets, and then to the only daughter and heiress of 
the 6th Baronet, Rebecca, who, in 1802, married Thomas Law 
Hodges of Hemsted, Kent. Their granddaughter, Mrs. H. J. 
Peareth of Pitnacree sold it to Sir George Donaldson, upon 
whose death I purchased it in 1925. 

The pearl ear-ring was given to the ist Earl of Portland by 
Queen Mary of Orange; and with it is a paper in her hand- 
writing, ‘This pearle was taken out of y* King my grandfather’s 
ear after he was beheaded & given y® Princess RoyaU’ — that is, 
to Mary, Princess of Orange, the mother of WilHam III. The 
ear-ring is clearly shown in the triple portrait of Charles I by 
Vandyck, in His Majesty’s collection at Windsor, and in many 
others, such as the equestrian portrait in the National Gallery', 
and another in the Louvre showing the King on foot. 

The historic chalice, which is really an ordinary drinking-cup 
converted to sacred use, stands inches high, and bears the 
London marks of 1629-30. Its appearance will be seen from 
plate 43. On the foot is an inscription in contemporary letter- 
ing: ‘King Charles the First: received the Communion in this 
Boule: on tuseday the 30th of January 1648 being the day in 
which he was Murthered.’ The bowl is engraved with the arms 

^AnExactandlmpartidAccompt of the Indictment . . . of Twenty nim Regicides, 1^0, 

p. 219. 


of Sir Henry Hene (or Henn), ist Baronet, of Winkfield, Co. 
Berks., who died in 1668; and his initials and those of his wife, 
^ , may be seen underneath the foot. 

The Communion was administered to King Charles on the 
day of his execution by Thomas Juxon, Bishop of London (after- 
wards Archbishop of Canterbury), who, it is stated in the 
Memoirs of Sir Thomas Herbert, then ‘had his lodging in Sir 
Henry Henn’s house, near St. James’s Gate’ ; so it seems almost 
certain that the cup was lent by Sir Henry to Juxon for the 
ceremony, and was afterwards returned to him. How it came 
into the possession of my family, I do not know; but it was al- 
ready theirs before 1744, because I have a letter from John 
Anstis, Garter King of Arms (who died in that year), written to 
the 2nd Duke of Portland, explaining the arms on the bowl. 

The chaHce was exhibited at Lansdowne House in 1929. 
During the Exhibition, an old lady approached Blanchie 
Lennox, who was one of the chief organisers, and asked whether 
she might be allowed to touch the chalice for a moment. She 
went on to explain that she belonged to a Stuart Society, each of 
whose members had a medal, and that if only she might touch 
the chaHce which the Royal Martyr had used, with her medal, 
then she could convey the virtue of it to those of her fellow- 
members. Blanchie told her that the chaHce belonged to me, 
and promised to ask my leave to open the case in which it was 
shown — a permission which I was of course delighted to give. 
The old lady was then invited to go to Lansdowne House at an 
hour before the pubHc was admitted, and the chaHce was taken 
out of its case. She &st knelt down to say a prayer, carefuUy 
drew her medal all round the rim, to be certain of touching the 
place where King Charles’s Hps had rested, then said another 
short prayer, and went away happy. I thought, and still think^ 
that this was a deHghtful and moving little incident. 

The reHcs I have described stand upon an ebony cabinet 
made to contain the family miniatures — a coUection now weU 
known through Mr. Goulding’s excellent and scholarly cata- 
logue, to which I have already referred. There are many fine 


examples of the work of Nicholas Hilliard, Isaac and Peter 
OHver, John Hoskins, and Samuel Cooper, to name only a few 
of the more important artists represented; and the collection is 
remarkable — ^indeed, I believe it is unmatched — ^for the high 
quality and brilliant condition of the miniatures of this early 
period which it contains, nearly all of them having been in the 
possession of the family since they were painted. 

I was once showing the miniatures to Count Larisch. After 
seeing the portraits of many ladies, he came to the miniature of 
my grandmother. Lady Charles Bentinck (page 343), and im- 
mediately said, ‘Never mind the others. Grannie wins in a canter !’ 

In a frame at the side of the cabinet is yet another relic of 
King Charles — the blue ribbon of the Order of the Garter 
which he wore upon the scaffold. This, like the gold toothpick, 
was given to Colonel Matthew Thomhnson, who restored to 
Charles II, in 1650, the George which then hung from it. The 
George is now at Windsor. The central cameo is on a hinge, 
and formerly enclosed a miniature portrait of Queen Henrietta 
Maria; but this has long since disappeared. 

The ribbon is now in two pieces ; and I think their history is 
both curious and romantic. The smaller of the two was cut off^ 
presumably about the middle of the seventeenth centu^, and 
given to Colonel ThomHnson’s sister Jane, who married Sir 
Thomas Twysden, the judge and ist Baronet. Her daughter 
Margaret became the second wife of Sir Thomas Style; and, 
through her, the ribbon passed into the possession of the Styfo 
family, and remained with them until the loth Baronet, Sir 
F. Montague Style, sold it in 19^9* ^ acquired it when it re- 
appeared in Messrs. Sotheby’s rooms in March, 1925* 

The larger piece had exactly the same history as the tooth- 
pick, and came to me from Sir George Donaldson s collection in 
October, 1928: so the two portions were reunited after a 
separation which lasted for about two hundred and twenty-five 
years. I believe there is a third piece of the ribbon, though no 
more than a fragment, in the possession of Mr. W. E. Jennings 
Bramley, of Mariut, in Egypt, who is a connection of both the 


Twysden and Style families, though it is uncertain through 
whom the ribbon descended to him. 

Above the cabinet is a Rosary of fifty cherry-stones and six 
plum-stones, all wonderfully and minutely carved with classical 
busts, scenes and inscriptions. It is Flemish work of about 1600 
and was bought by Margaret, Duchess of Portland, in 1773, 
from the collection of the well-known antiquary, James West, It 
is traditionally believed to have been the property of Queen 
Henrietta Maria, and that the diamond cross, now missing, was 
pawned by the Queen during the exile of the Royal Family in 

In the same case is a gold ring, set with a large pigeon-blood 
ruby, table-cut, between two diamonds. With it is a paper in 
the handwriting of Queen Mary of Orange: ‘This Ruby so set 
was given me by the Prince three days after we wear Maried, 
w*^^ being the first thing he gave me I have ever had a perticuler 
esteem for it; when I was to be crowned I had it made big 
enough for y’^ finger for y* ocation but by mistake twas put on 
y® Kings finger & I had that put on mine was designed for him, 
but we changed & I have worn it ever since till last Thursday 
y® ^ of November 1689 Y' stone dropt out at diner. I was ex- 
treamly trobled at it upon y* accounts forementioned; there- 
fore haveing found it lock it up for fear of y® like mischance 
againe. Oct. y® 19 1694 1 gave it Mr. Beauvoir to set fast.’ There 
can be no doubt that the ring, and the paper, were given to the 
I St Earl of Pordand, either by the Queen, or by William III 
after her death. I think they present a very pleasant and human 
picture of the Queen, and of the affection she felt for her hus- 
band’s first gift to her. 

In a small shagreen case is the ivory-handled pen-knife with 
which a French spy, the Marquis de Guiscard, attempted to 
murder my ancestor Robert Harley, the then Lord High 
Treasurer, in 1712. The incident, which caused intense excite- 
ment throughout the country and, incidentally, resulted in 
Harley s elevation to the Earldom of Oxford, may be studied 
in any history of the Reign of Queen Anne. The penknife was 


inherited by Captain Edward Bacon, late i8th Hussars, a grand- 
son of the last Harley Earl of Oxford, from whose family I 
bought it about twenty years ago. 

The pictures in this room are all portraits of members of the 
Harley family. The most interesting are perhaps those of Robert 
Harley in his robes as Lord High Treasurer, and of his daughter- 
in-law Henrietta, Countess of Oxford, in an olive-green riding- 
habit, both signed by Kneller; of the little heiress. Lady Mar- 
garet Harley, who married the 2nd Duke of Portland, painted as 
a shepherdess by Michael Dahl; and two great landscapes by 
Wootton, showing Lady Oxford hawking at Wimpole and hunt- 
ing the hare on Orwell Hill in its vicinity. The chandeliers in 
this and the next room were once the property of Lord and 
Lady Palmerston. 

Leading from the House Library is the Gobelins Drawing 
Room, so named from the tapestries with which it is hung. 
These are signed by Neilson, the Scottish Director of the 
Gobelins manufactory, and are dated 1783. The background is 
rose-pink, with central medallions after designs by Fran9ois 
Boucher, and elaborate borders. They are in remarkably fine 
condition, and may never have been used until they were hung 
in this room about thirty-five years ago. At all events, they 
are first mentioned in a Welbeck inventory of 1833 as being in 
‘2 long Tin Boxes’ ; and they were still in these boxes when I 
succeeded, as my sister OttoHne has already stated. When 
exhibited at South Kensington in 1920— i, they were considered 
so fine that a special room was set apart for their display. Baron 
de Rothschild of Vienna once told me that, if they were his, he 
would build a house round them. 

Near the fireplace is a small silver tea-table of the Queen 
Anne period, with an elaborately quartered coat of arms of 
Edward Harley, Earl of Oxford, to whom it belonged. By it 
stands a bonheur du jour or table-cabinet, set with plaques of 
Sevres porcelain, and mounted with gilded ormulu of wonderful 
fineness. It is believed to have been the property of Queen 
Marie Antoinette, and is a magnificent piece of its kind. In a 


cabinet between the windows is a quantity of Sevres porcelain, 
some of it bearing the monogram of Madame Du Barry, and all, 
I believe, of the finest quality and decoration. 

Next to the Gobelins Room is the Swan Drawing Room, 
named after its carpet, which has a central design of swans, and 
was bought from the Aubusson Depot in London by the 4th 
Duke of Portland in 1833. Over the mantelpiece and between 
the windows are mirrors in Chippendale frames, elaborately 
carved in the Chinese manner with birds and oriental figures. I 
have heard it said that the late Duke purchased them in Ireland. 
On the walls are many portraits of the eighteenth and early 
nineteenth centuries. Four are by Reynolds — of the 3rd Duke 
of Pordand ; of his son the 4th Duke, painted when a child, in 
red Van Dyck costume ; of the 3rd Duke’s brother-in-law. Lord 
Richard Cavendish ; and of the ‘butcher’ Duke of Cumberland. 
The portrait of Lord Richard Cavendish, which was greatly 
admired by both Sargent and Laszld when they worked in this 
room, was Lord Richard’s gift to his sister Dorothy, Duchess of 

There are also four portraits by Sir Thomas Lawrence — of 
Lord William Bentinck, Governor-General of India 1827—35, 
his wife, nee Mary Acheson, a daughter of Lord Gosfbrd, his 
brother (my grandfather) Lord Charles Bentinck, and his sister 
Lady Mary Bentinck. By the same artist is an oil-sketch of 
my father as a child, which formerly belonged to my cousin, 
Frederick Cavendish-Bentinck. 

Of the other pictures in the room I wiU mention only three — 
a charming, littie full-length portrait of a lady, believed to be the 
famous Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire, by Angelica Kauf- 
mann; a head and shoulders by Hoppner, of Renira, Baroness 
Van TuyU, who married a member of the Dutch branch of my 
family; and a copy, made by George Richmond, R.A., in 1856, 
of Romney’s beautiful portrait of Lady Edward Bentinck, who 
was a daughter of Richard Cumberland, the dramatist. 

George Richmond told me in after years that, when a young 
man, he saw the original picture in the house of Archdeacon 



W. H. Bentinck, Lady Edward’s son, and fell so much in love 
with it that he made a copy without asking the owner’s leave. 
The Archdeacon was not unnaturally annoyed; and, feeling 
he had overstepped the bounds of courtesy, Richmond deter- 
mined never to part with the copy for money. He said that he 
was now (1893) an old man and, though still fond of the pic- 
ture, he would like to make sure of its future by giving it to me. 

The original painting became the property of Lord HUling- 
don, and was afterwards purchased through the Felton Bequest 
for the National Gallery of Melbourne. The then adviser to the 
Felton Trustees was my guest, some years ago; and, when pass- 
ing through the Swan Drawing Room, he suddenly caught 
sight of Richmond’s picture and said, ‘Good heavens! Is that 
the original, and have I made the most awfol mistake?’ I very 
quickly set his mind at rest; but I still reniember with amuse- 
ment the sudden start and look of anxiety with which he put the 

At the end of this side of the house is the dining-room, which 
was reconstructed by Sir Ernest George after the fire of 1900. 
The pictures are all by Van Dyck, or by artists of his school. The 
earliest, and perhaps the most arresting, is a portrait of an un- 
known man, called a Senator of Antwerp, in Van Dyck’s early 
or Genoese manner. It is a wonderful study of character. The 
eyes follow one everywhere, and, to me at least, convey the im- 
pression of a man at once cultivated, subtle and a little un- 
trustworthy. On either side of the fireplace are full-length por- 
traits, both of great quality, of William Cavendish, Duke of 
Newcastle, and the famous Earl of Strafford. These two men 
were friends ; and at Wentworth Woodhouse there are still pre- 
served letters firom Straflford to his Agent Raylton, written in 
r636, mentioning the despatch of this portrait to Welbeck, and 
Vandyck’s excessive charge for it — the amount being fifty 
pounds! Newcastle was originally painted wearing the red rib- 
bon of the Bath; but in 166 r, after his return fi:om exile, he was 
invested with the Order of the Garter, and the red ribbon was 
then overpainted with blue, and the Garter and the Star added. 



As the Gaxter ribbon is worn over the left shoulder, and that of 
the Bath over the right, it is of course shown on the wrong side. 

On the north wall is an original portrait of Charles II as a 
boy, also by Van Dyck. It was painted for the Duke of Newcastle, 
who was the young Prince’s ‘Governor’ for some years after 
1638. There is a similar portrait at Windsor; but, according to 
the official Catalogue Raisonni of the Pictures ... at Windsor Castle 
(1922), ‘This is probably a School copy; a better version is in 
the Collection ... at Welbeck Abbey’. Near it are portraits of 
Queen Henrietta Maria and Archbishop Laud, both after 
Van Dyck. The late Archbishop Davidson and I compared this 
portrait of Laud with the version at Lambeth, and I am afraid 
mine came out second best, much to the delight of the Arch- 
bishop. Someone, however, rather unkindly pointed out that 
the Lambeth version is inferior to the one then, and per- 
haps still, in the Hermitage at Petrograd. Other pictures, 
which I will mention but need not describe, are those of Charles 
I (a fine head, attributed to Vaii Dyck’s pupil Henry Stone), Sir 
Kenelm Diigby and his family, with remarkable portraits of his 
two sons, and Ben Jonson, the poet. In the window-recess is a 
very sensitive portrait of John Fletcher, the playwright, si^ed 
by Cornelius Johnson and dated 1621. 

-On one of the sideboards is a clock by the famous maker 
Thomas Tompion, who flourished during the reign of Queen 
Anne and was, I believe, the only clockmaker ever buried 
in Westminster Abbey. It has an elaborate case of tortoiseshell 
and ormolu, and still keeps very good time. Tompion’s bill for 
this and other clocks, of which one is at Welbeck Woodhouse 
and a third at 17 Hill Street, is preserved in the Library. The 
furniture of this room is all modem, except two panels of Mort- 
lake tapestry, mounted as firescreens, bearing the arms of John 
Holies, 1st Earl of Clare, who died in 1637. On the sideboards 
and mantelpiece are some fine pieces of late seventeenth-century 

From the dining-room one passes into a small vaulted hall, in 
which are two alcoves, now used to display some very fine silver- 


Broken penknife with which the Mcirquis de Guiscard attempted to 
assassinate Robert Harley, March 8th, 1711 

Written in his eighty-second year 

gilt plate of the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries. 
Possibly the most interesting piece is a two-handled cup in- 
scribed, ‘The last Privey Seale belong’d to England before 
the Union of Great Brittaine tooke place the first of May 
1707’. This was made from the original Privy Seal, by John 
Coggs in 1708, for John Holies, Duke of Newcastle; and the 
bill for it is still preserved at Welbeck. There are also two 
magnificent rosewater bowls and ewers, of the period of 
WilHam III, and a gold font by Paul Storr, probably from a 
design by Flaxman, made in 1796 for the christening of Lord 
Woodstock, the grandson of the 3rd Duke of Portland, and 
last used for the baptism of my granddaughter Peggy Bentinck 
in 1918. 

A door opposite leads into the Horsemanship bedroom and 
dressing-room, in which the Duke of Newcastle is believed to 
have composed his famous book, the Methode nouvelle de dresser les 
chevaux, printed at Antwerp in 1657, The dressing-room is one 
of the very few rooms in the house to have escaped restora- 
tion; it has stone vaulting of about 1610, a carved fireplace of 
the same period, and attractive panelling. This seems a suit- 
able place to record that there is not a single ghost to be seen 
in the Abbey, nor is there any tradition of one. I am afraid my 
ancestors were all too well behaved to be condemned to haunt 
their successors! Nor do I think they would wish to visit the 
underground rooms built by my predecessor, for they would 
probably dislike them as much as I do myself. 

Between this room and the front hall is the Laszl6 Room, 
a name which will be explained in Chapter IX, It contains two 
interesting relics of the friendship between King William HI 
and the Earl of Pordand. One is a large iron casket, probably 
intended for a jewel case, covered with red velvet and decorated 
with plaques and scrolls of steel and gilt metal. On either side 
are the initials W.M. interlaced; and the lid bears the arms- 
of the Earl of Pordand within the collar of the Garter, which 
Order he received in 1697. It has an intricate spring-lock, 
and the keys are beautifully pierced with the initials W.M.R. 


under a Royal Crown. The other is a large and elaborately 
carved model of the armed yacht of King William III, flying 
the royal standard and the flag of SS. George and Andrew. 
These were both gifts from the King and Queen to the Earl of 
Portland. In the same room are several early silver ‘standishes’ 
or inkstands, one of them, of French workmanship, having for- 
merly belonged to Matthew Prior; a brass table-clock of about 
1600, which still keeps time — ^very noisily too; and twelve silver 
candlesticks bearing the arms and cipher of Queen Anne, which 
formed part of the official plate given to Robert Harley as 
Speaker of the House of Commons from 1701 to 1 705. There are 
portraits by de Laszlo on two of the walls, to which I shall refer 
later. On another wall is a portrait of King Edward VI, of the 
School of Holbein, showing the young King with pointed, 
faunlike ears ; a small, full-length portrait of Queen Elizabeth, 
signed by the elder Gheeraats ; and the well-known portrait of a 
boy by Rembrandt, signed and dated 1634. 

In the corridor between the Horsemanship Rooms and the 
dining-room are many pictures of interek. A full-length portrait 
of Mary, Queen of Scots, is one of several variants of the likeness 
painted by PhiHp Oudry in 1578. It bears an inscription, added 
by Lady Oxford, stating that it is ‘An Original . . . taken at 
Hardwick whilst she was in Custody of George Talbot Earl of 
Shrewsbury’. On the same wall is a curious portrait of Henry 
Wriothesley, 3rd Earl of Southampton, Shakespeare’s friend 
and patron, in which he is dressed in mourning clothes, sitting 
by a broken window, with a cat by his side. It was painted in 
1 602 or 1603, when the young Earl was imprisoned in the Tower 
for his compHcity in the attempted rebellion of Essex. Near it 
are two portraits of his wife, Elizabeth Vernon, and two others 
of their daughter-in-law, Rachel (de Ruvigny), wife of the 4th 
Lord Southampton, one of them by Van Dyck. 

From this hall, a staircase and a long corridor, containing 
some good Sevres, Nantgarw and Chelsea porcelain and a large 
collection of engravings, lead to the Library and Chapel, built 
by John Smithson in 1623 ^ ^ riding school for the ist Duke 


of Newcastle. The chief treasure of the Library is the vast series 
of correspondence and other historical documents, inherited 
from the famihes of Vere, Holies, Harley, Wriothesley and 
Bentinck. They have been partly catalogued by the His- 
torical Manuscripts Commission, which has already issued ten 
volumes of the Calendar of Portland Papers; and the remaining 
correspondence was, for the most part, arranged and carefully 
indexed by R. W. Gbulding. 

After Edward Harley, Earl of Oxford, died in 1741, his vast 
collection of manuscripts — ^partly inherited from his father, and 
greatly increased by himself with the aid of his famous librarian 
Humfrey Wanley — ^was sold by his widow to the British Mu- 
seum, where it remains as the Harleian collection to this day. 
Lady Oxford retained practically all the family papers, how- 
ever, including the first Lord Oxford’s official correspondence 
as Speaker of the House of Commons and, later, as Lord High 
Treasurer. These, which form an extensive collection in them- 
selves, are stiU at Welbeck. I shah, not attempt to describe them, 
or the other family papers, as they are being freely used by 
Professor A. S. Turberville of the University of Leeds, in pre- 
paring the history of- Welbeck and its owners upon which he 
is now engaged. 

I will, however, allude to a series of letters from the reigning 
Queens of England from Mary Tudor to Queen Victoria, which 
are exhibited in a frame. When my daughter Victoria was 
a girl, her governess. Miss Lamb, set her an examination-paper. 
One of the questions was, ‘State what interesting letters from 
Reigning Queens there are in the Library.’ Victoria wrote that 
there were letters from Mary Tudor, Elizabeth, Mary Queen of 
Scots, Mary of Orange, Queen Anne, and finally ‘one from 
Queen Victoria,^ asking father if she might have the honour of 
being my godmother.’ 

In four large frames, there is another series of letters, from 
the four Lord High Treasurers to Queen Anne, and every Prime 
Minister from Robert Walpole to the present day, all addressed 

^This letter appears on page 1 16. 

to members of my family. I reproduce one from the Duke 
(then Marquess) of W^ellington to Lord William Bentinck, as it 
is very characteristic of his dry sense of humour. 

‘Lesaca, Septr. 1813. 

‘My Dear Lord, 

. * There is no Man better aware than I am of the state of 
every Officer* s reputation who has to command troops with 
such miserable means of support as these have , particularly in 
these days in which such extravagant expectations are excited 
by that excessively wise and useful class of people the Editors of 
Newspapers. If I had been at any time capable of doing what 
these Gentlemen expected, I should now I believe have been in 
the Moon. They have long ago expected me at Bourdeaux; nay, 
I understand that thete are many of their wise readers (ama- 
teurs of the Military Art) who are waiting to join the Army till 
H. Qrs. will arrive in that city; and when they will hear of the 
late Spanish Batde, I conclude that they will defer their journey 
till I shall arrive at Paris'. But you may depend upon this ; first, 
that I shall neither myself form nor encourage in others extra- 
vagant expectations ; secondly that you shall have my full sup- 
port in any measure that you think proper to adopt under your 
instructions ; and thirdly, that if you do your own duty, as I am 
sure you will, according to the best of your Judgement and satisfy 
yourself, you will satisfy your Employers & eventually the 
British Publick. ... 

‘I have heard so many debates that I never read one, more 
especially as I know that, unless a Gentleman takes the trouble 
of writing his speech, the Report of it in the Newspapers is not 
very accurate. Since Lord Wellesley quitted Spain in 1809, I 
have never written to or received from him one letter upon any 
publick subject whatever; and I don’t know what he said or 
thought on the Ahcant Army. I should think however that he 
could have had no accurate information to enable him to form 
an opinion at all. 

Ever your’s, My Dear Lord, most sincerely, 



There are also several letters written to the Earl of Portland 
by the famous Duke of Marlborough, one of which relates to 
the Battle of Blenheim; 

Sefelingen, Augt. 28tA, 1 704. 

‘My Lord, 

T am very much obliged to your Lordp. for the favour of your 
letter, and tho I doubt not but you will doe me the Justice to be- 
Heve that my chief aim is to serve the Publick, yet I must own it 
as a particular satisfaction to me to have the approbation of my 
friends in my just endeavours, which God has blest with so 
signal a Victory over our Common Enemy, that I ffllatter my 
self they will not recover the Blow in some years, for we find by 
the letters we have intercepted of the Enemys going to Paris, 
that they [one word missing] own their loose to be above 
forty thousand men; the troups under my comand has been 
March’d these three days towardes the Rhin, but I have been 
desir’d to stay for the finishing a treaty with the Electoris for 
the giving up of Ulm, and the rest of the Garrison; if this 
treaty does not suced we shal then leave Monsr. Thimgen to 
Garry on the siege, the reducing of this place being of the last 
Consequence for the security of these Gountrys; 

T recon we shal be with the Army on the Rhin by the 7 of the 
next month, where I hope we shall meet with further success, 
before the end of the Gampagne, 

I am with truth, and respect. 

My Lord 

Your lordshipes most obedient humble servant 

Marlborough. ’ 

I have already given some account of the Chapel in Chapter 
II, The lower half of the walls is panelled, and on the upper 
half are himg Brussels tapestries, some of which were given 
to us by my wife’s mother, Mrs. Dallas-Yorke. Over the 
altar is a striking picture of the Adoration of the Shepherds by 
Gerard Honthorst. 

From the Library, a staircase leads to the underground 


rooms, which are entered from a long passage hung with 
pictures, by van Diepenbeke and his assistant Sijmons, of the 
Duke of Newcastle’s managed horses. On the left are three 
rooms of fair size, which we use for supper and sitting out 
during a ball. One of them contains a fine collection of British 
birds, originally formed by Donald Ross, the Head Keeper at 
Langwell, and enlarged in later years ; and in cases on the wall 
opposite are the skins of my great racehorse St. Simon, and of 
my two Derby winners, Ayrshire and Donovan. The other two 
supper-rooms are hung with portraits and miscellaneous pictures. 

The great ballroom at the end of the corridor, measuring 
159 ft. by 63 ft., contains many pictures of historical interest, 
of which I need mention only two. One is a full-length portrait, 
probably by the younger Gheeraats, of Shakespeare’s patron, 
the 3rd Earl of Southampton, showing him as a very young man 
in wonderfully damascened tilting armour. The other, repre- 
senting an angel contemplating the Cross, is the original car- 
toon by Sir Joshua Reynolds for part of the West window of 
New College Chapel, Oxford. It possesses special interest as 
having been bequeathed by the artist himself to the 3rd Duke of 
Pordand, who was then Chancellor of the University. 

I fear I may have wearied the reader by this long voyage of 
discovery round a house which he or she has possibly never seen. 
So I will pass over much that I might otherwise describe, and 
will make an end with my own sitting-room, where a great deal 
of this book has been dictated and written. It contains, among 
many other pictures, a portrait of Napoleon by Paul Delaroche, 
painted in 1845. Though I believe there is no proof that the 
Emperor ever sat to this painter, who was only eighteen 
years old at the time of Waterloo, it is certain that he visited the 
studio of Bziron Gros when Delaroche was a pupil there. My 
predecessor lent the pictiure to Lady Jane Dalrymple-Hamilton, 
who showed it to the Due de Coigny. She wrote to the Duke 
afterwards, saying that de Coigny ‘says he never saw such a 
likeness, that it is the Emperor himself! ... he almost screamed 
when he saw Napoleon’. 


Below the portrait is a bronze showing the Emperor seated 
by a table, shortly before the battle of Marengo. Only about 
half a dozen copies were made ; and this one was given by 
Prince Talleyrand to the then Lord Ranchffe in 1800. I pur- 
chased it from Bunny Hall, the home of the Rancliffe family, in 


Other objects of interest in this room are the beautiful keys 
worn by the Earl of Portland as Groom of the Stole and First 
Gentleman of the Bedchamber to King WiUiam III, and as 
Ranger of Windsor Park. I have often wondered whether any 
of them would fit the present doors of the Royal apartments 
at Hampton Court. 



I n 1886, I was honoured by Queen Victoria, as H.M, ap- 
pointed me Master of the Horse, on the recommendation of 
Lord Salisbury, who became Prime Minister upon the fall of 
Mr. Gladstone’s Government in that year. I held the office 
till 1892, and again from 1895 to 1905. When I became a 
member of the Household, the late Lord Mount Edgcumbe 
was the Lord Steward, and the late Lord Lathom the Lord 
Chamberlain. These three ofiicials, the Lord Steward, the 
Lord Chamberlain and the Master of the Horse, were (and 
perhaps still are) known as the three Great Officers of State.^ I 
was very happy in this office, as my duties were congenial and 
brought me sometimes into personal contact with Her Majesty, 
from whom I received much kindness, as I did also from her 
successor King Edward VII. At the same time I made the 
acquaintance of many interesting people whom I should not 
otherwise have known, meeting in my official capacity celebrated 
individuals from all parts of the world, who came to London to 
attend the numerous Court ceremonies. 

Lord Mount Edgcumbe had been a Court- official for many 
years, and was formerly an Equerry to the Prince Consort. He 
was a most attractive, courtly man. He married Lady Katherine 
Hamilton, daughter of the ist Duke of Abercorn, and was the 

^In those days the three Great OflBcers of State, some of the Lords in Waiting and 
other principal Court ofiicials were nominated by the Prime Minister from the 
of his party. On the accession of the first Labour Government to power, 

I believe it was arranged that the Lord Steward, the Lord Chamberlain and the 
Master of the Horse should continue in office; and these have now, I understand, 
become permanent appointments at the discretion of His Msgesty. Of course each 
department of the Court is staffed by permanent officials, in order to secure a con- 
tinuity of policy. 


Standing by the Queen is the Earl of Lathom, Lord Chamberlain 

father of my old friend Valletort, now Lord Mount Edgcumbe, 
who married Lady Edith Villiers, only daughter of the 5th 
Lord Clarendon. Alas, she recently died. She was a charming 
woman, and certainly one of the most beautiful horsewomen 
I ever saw. 

Lord Lathom had a fine, long beard and was a man of 
extremely dignified figure and appearance. Before his creation 
as Earl of Lathom in 1880, he had for many years, as Lord 
Skelmersdale, been an effective and popular Whip to the 
Conservative Party in the House of Commons. He married a 
sister of the then Lady Derby, and lived at Lathom in Lanca- 
shire, not far from Knowsley. When I knew him, he was still 
known to his older friends as ‘Skelmy’. He was one of the best 
gun shots of the time; and, when shooting, he divided his beard 
into two plaits, which he tied behind his neck, out of the way of 
the stock of his gun. I have never seen this done by anyone else. 
He reminded me of one of the drawings in Lear’s Book of 
Nonsense, ‘There was an old man with a beard.’ We did not, 
however, quote this limerick in his presence. 

The Rt. Hon. Sir Spencer Ponsonby-Fane was a Court offi- 
cial for over fifty years, from 1859 19^5 5 

details of ceremonial and etiquette at his fingers’ ends. In his 
youth he had been very fond of cricket, and he became one of the 
founders of the I Zingari Cricket Club. For a very long time he 
was Comptroller of the Lord Chamberlain’s Department. He 
superintended the presentations at the various ceremonies, and 
was very critical of the deportment of the ladies who attended 
them. It was most amusing to watch the demeanour of some of 
these ladies, one debutante being so nervous that, when she held out 
her hand for the Queen to place hers upon it, she twice snatched 
her own hand away and kissed it, before H.M. had time to make 
the necessary gesture. She then tried to escape from the Royal 
presence and, when brought back by Sir Spencer, repeated her 
faux pas for the third time. We heard the Queen say, ‘Never 
mind — ^she is so terribly shy, poor dear.’ 

Another lady gave her card to be handed to the Lord 


Chamberlain; but it was in such a damp and crushed condition 
that the name was no longer legible, and the card appeared to 
have been chewed almost to pieces. 

Colonel Sir George Maude, the Crown Equerry and Secre- 
tary to the Master of the Horse, lived in the Lodge at the 
Royal Mews. Unfortunately he was very deaf, which made it 
difficult for him to have personal interviews^ with Queen 
Victoria, as H.M. could not make him hear. He served with 
distinction during the Crimean War, being severely wounded 
by a shell which burst under his horse at the Battle of 
Balaclava, where he commanded a battery of artillery. The 
poor old fellow found it very difficult to explain to ladies why, 
for a long time afterwards, he was unable to sit down or ride 
without great discomfort! He used a pecuHar wagonette with a 
hood, and made much hospitable use of it, especially for his 
charming lady friends, of whom he seemed to possess a great 
many. He superintended the Royal Studs at Hampton Court, 
then containing the cream and black horses used on State 
occasions, besides thoroughbred mares, whose yearlings were 
sold in the month of June. 

A dear old gentleman, the 3rd Lord Crewe, appeared at a 
Levee with a long tritoma, commonly known as a ‘red-hot poker’, 
fastened in a buttonhole of his uniform. This created great con- 
sternation, and it was amusing to watch Lord Crewe defending 
his flower, and warding off, first a page, and then the redoubt- 
able Sir Spencer himself, who tried to remove it. The Prince 
of Wales, who was holding the Lev6e, was greatly amused. 

Lord Crewe was a very generous man, and attended many 
Charity Dinners. I presided at two of these within a week, and 
was astonished to see him at both — always with a ‘red-hot 
poker’ in his buttonhole. On the second occasion, I said, ‘It is 
extraordinarily kind of you to come. Lord Crewe.’ ‘Not at all,’ 
he repHed, ‘you see, I am very fond of society, but I am so old 

^When necessary, he communicated with H.M. in writing. All notes and letters 
to the Queen from members of her Household had to be sealed, and not gummed 


that nobody invites me now; so unless I attend dinners like 
this, I am obliged to stay at home !’ 

Lord Alfred Paget, born in i8i6, became Senior Equerry 
and Clerk Marshal, and remained in the Royal service practi- 
cally all his life. He was still a remarkably handsome man, 
with a loud and rather alarming voice — especially to me, forty 
years his junior, when he called me ‘my ducal master’, as he 
loved to do. He was a most genial old gentleman, and the 
father of a large family, among whom were the then Captain 
Arthur Paget (afterwards General Sir Arthur Paget) of the 
Scots Guards,^ and Admiral Sir Alfred Paget. 

Lord Colville of Culross (1818-1903) had a distinguished 
career, having been Chief Equerry and Clerk Marshal to Queen 
Victoria and afterwards Lord Chamberlain to Queen Alexan- 
dra. He was also a first-class man of bxisiness, and for many 
years chairman of the Great Northern Railway Company. I 
made his acquaintance when I became Master of the Horse, 
and he always showed me great kindness. Soon after I received 
the appointment, he said, ‘Now, young fellow, you’ve become 
one of us, and I hope you won’t mind a very old courtier giving 
you a little advice. It is this. Sit down whenever you see a vacant 
chair, and always make yourself comfortable when you have the 
chance — ^for, I assure you, you will have very few opportunities 
of doing either!’ 

^Arthxir Paget served with, great distinction in the Ashanti War, when he and 
Colonel Brabazon, late of the Grenadier Guards, brought home despatches and the 
state nmhrp^na. of King Kofi Karikari to Queen Victoria. He afterwards served in 
every W2ur that took place, and commanded a Division in South Afiica. Though too 
old for active service in the Great War, he was sent on a mission to Russia. He 
married Miss Mary Stevens, a beautiful American lady, and became the father of a 
very gallant sonj Col. A. E. Paget, who unfortunately died of wounds towar<^ Ae 
end of the Great War, after being twice mentioned in despatches and receiving 
a brevet. 

During the South African War, he was in the habit of describing the operations 
of the force under his command in rather florid language, more or less in this style: 
'Having freely sprinkled the enemy position with shrapnel, I then launched my 

gallant s to the attack, whereupon the Boers retreated to another position.’ 

When the outspoken General Brabazon heard this, he remarked, ‘It seems to me, 
old boy, that Arthur Paget’s operwations of war are nothing more nor less than 
Operwa Bouffe.’ 


He told me that when he was Master of the Buck Hounds, an 
office which he held from 1866 to 1868, the Prince of Wales 
hunted with him one day, the stag being taken not far from 
Paddington Station. The Prince of Wales, accompanied by Lord 
Colville and the hunt servants in their red coats, then rode 
through the Park down Rotten Row and Constitution Hill to 
Marlborough House. 

At the entertainments at Buckingham Palace, a famous and 
rather potent brew of hock-cup was served at one of the side- 
board? in the Royal supper-room. When the Prince and Prin- 
cess of Wales went to bed. Lord Colville used to say in his cheery 
voice, ‘And now for hock-cup corner!’ My wife handed him a 
glass of hock-cup one evening, and he then, and often after- 
wards, called her ‘my Hebe’. 

Lord Colville wore a little gold ball attached to his watch- 
chain. My wife was very curious as to what it contained, but he 
made rather a mystery of it, and refused to tell her. At last, 

after much teasing, he opened it and she saw a beautiful 

blue eye 1 ‘I lost one of my eyes in a shooting accident,’ he told 
her, ‘and this is a spare one I use when the one I am wearing 
grows hot and uncomfortable. I have another at home, with a 
merry twinkle in it ; and I shall certainly wear that when I have 
the pleasure of seeing you again.’ 

Other Equerries were Colonel the Hon. Sir Henry Byng, 
afterwards Lord Strafford, and my old friend and brother- 
officer Harry Legge (Colonel the Hon. Sir Henry Legge). It was 
usual for an Equerry to retire on succeeding to a Peerage ; but 
Sir Henry Byng liked the position, and did not do so. I remem- 
ber hearing King Edward say in rather a sarcastic voice, ‘The 
Earl of Strafford, EquerryV Harry Legge, who had been Adju- 
tant of the Coldstream in my time, was the father of Nobby 
Legge, who became a Page of Honour to Queen Victoria and 
received a commission in the Coldstream Guards, but was, alas, 
killed at the beginning of the Great War. 

The most distinguished, and perhaps the most experienced, 
of all the Court officials was Sir Henry Ponsonby, private 


Master of the Buck Hoiinds, i866 

Secretaiy to the Queen. A great deal depended on his discretion 
and judgment, which, fortunately for everybody concerned, 
were both very sound. He had been Equerry to the Prince 
Consort, then served in the Crimea as an officer in the Grenadier 
Guards, and in due course succeeded General Grey^ as private 
Secretary. He was the father of my friends, John, the dis- 
tinguished soldier, Frederick (Fritz), for many years Keeper of 
the Privy Purse, and also of Arthur Ponsonby, now Lord 
Ponsonby of Shulbrede, sometime leader of the SociaHst Party 
in the House of Lords. 

From aU these older, and certainly much wiser, men than my- 
self, I received much kindness and, when I needed it, good advice. 

Harry Stonor was then — as he has been ever since, for he 
seems never to have grown older — one of the young, sporting 
elegants of the Court, his mother, the Hon. Mrs. Francis Stonor, 
having been one of the first Ladies in Waiting to the Princess 
of Wales after her marriage. I have heard that the Prin- 
cess visited her very often during her illness, and promised to 
care for her children. Nobly did the Prince and Princess fulfil 
their duty, for both Harry and his sister Julie, who afterwards 
married the Marquis d’Hautpoul, practically made their home 
at -Sandringham, Harry receiving the appointment of Groom 
in Wtdting to both Queen Victoria and the Prince of Wales, 
an office which he continued to hold after H.R.H.’s accession 
to the Throne, and during the Reign of his late Majesty King 
George, who showed him much kindness also. 

At the Drawing Rooms, as they were then called, it was 
Harry’s duty to pick up, fold, and place the trains pf the ladies 
over their arms, after they had passed the presence. Having a 
slim, elegant figure, he did so with much grace, hardly ever 
ruffling the toilettes or the tempers of his numerous patients. 
Indeed, I sure he must have created as much havoc in their 
hearts as he did among the game in the shooting season ! 

^General Grey (1804-1870) was the second son of Earl Grey, the celebrated 
Prime Minister. He became the father of Albert, 4th Earl Grey, Governor-General 
of Canada, and of Lady Victoria Dawnay; Loiiisa, Countess of Antrim; and Mary, 
Countess of Minto. 


Another, rather different though equally good-looking, type 
of Court official was my old friend Douglas Dawson.^ He began 
life in the Coldstream, and with this regiment he served in at 
least two campaigns. His elder brother Vesey, also my lifelong 
friend, showed extreme kindness and generosity to him, giving 
up a considerable part of his private fortune to enable Douglas to 
cut a dash in Vienna, Paris, and other Capitals where he became 
Military Attach^. Douglas was afterwards Comptroller in the 
Lord Chamberlain’s Department, and w'as appointed Master of 
Ceremonies to H.M. and Secretary of the Order of the Garter. 
Extremely good looking, he also possessed considerable ability. 
We visited Vienna and Paris when he was Military Attache 
in those cities (see Chapter XI) ; and under his wing we had a 
very good time. 

No account of Court life would be complete without a refer- 
ence to Horace Farquhar. He was a great friend of Lord Fife, 
and he had a really remarkable social career. A younger son 
of Sir Walter Townsend -Farquhar, he became a banker, 
married Lady Scott, the widow of Sir Edward Scott, was ap- 
pointed Master of the Household in 1901, and created Viscoimt 
Farquhar. When I first knew him, he was nicknamed ‘Kind 
Horace’. As Master of the Household to King Edward, he 
brought the whole establishment into line with modem re- 

Some time before my appointment — I think in 1885 — 
the Queen honoured me with a command to dine and sleep 
at Windsor. Lord Salisbury, the then Prime Minister, was 
present; and at dinner he wore pantaloons instead of the cus- 
tomary knee-breeches and silk stockings. Pantaloons were 
trousers, made tight from the knee down, and buttoned round 
the ankle. They were more favoured by the older than by the 
younger generation, this, I think, being the only time I ever saw 
them worn, though on Royal invitation-cards the regulation 
dress was still given as knee-breeches or pantaloons. 

In January, 1886, when Parliament was opened during Lord 

^Afterwards Brig.-Gesneral Sir Douglas Dawson, G.C.V.O. 



lefore her are the Marquess of Salisbury, Portland, the Marquess of Winchester, 

and the Duke of Norfolk 

Salisbury’s administration, Queen Victoria decided to perform 
the ceremony herself, for the first time for many years and also, 
as it turned out, for the last time. I had the honour of carrying 
the Grown on that occasion. 

In company with Lord Salisbury, who carried the Sword of 
State, I went to a room in the House of Lords ; and there we 
found Lord Winchester, whose family are hereditary bearers of 
the Cap of Maintenance, sitting in his robes by the fire. The 
Crown, the Sword of State, and the Cap of Maintenance were 
conveyed from the Tower, as was customary, in a four-wheeled 
cab under the guard of a sergeant and guardsmen of the Foot 
Guards; and Sir Spencer Ponsonby-Fane brought them to the 
waiting room. He delivered the Sword of State to Lord Salis- 
bury, and handed the Crown to me, whispering as he did so, 
‘Now, take care you don’t drop it!’ — for I believe that, some 
years before, a noble Duke had dropped it and then put his 
foot on it. The Grown rested on a cushion, suspended by a ribbon 
from my neck; and I must confess that by the time the cere- 
mony was over I had had quite enough of it, for my hands were 
almost numbed by the tight gloves I was wearing and the 
slippery edge of the cushion. 

When Sir Spencer handed the Cap of Maintenance to its 
bearer, he said, ‘And here is your bauble, my Lord.’ Lord 

Winchester immediately flamed up ‘ you. Sir I What the 

do you mean by calling the Cap of Maintenance a 

bauble? I would have you know. Sir, that my family sets great 
store by the privilege of carrying it ; and I will not have it called 
a bauble.’ Sir Spencer did not reply, but as he passed me he 
whispered, ‘What an old ruffian!’ and Lord Salisbury added, ‘I 
fear the noble Lord has got a litde out of his depth.’ It was ex- 
plziined to me afterwards that the lesser objects in the regalia, 
the Cap of Maintenance among them, are technically and 
correctly known as ‘the baubles of the Crown’ ; so Sir Spencer 
Ponsonby-Fane was quite right. 

Later in the same year, after the change of Gfovemment and 
when I had received the appointment of Master of the Horse, 
H 1 13 

the Queen made a Royal progress to open the People’s Palace 
at Bethnal Green. The success of this visit, no doubt, encouraged 
H.M. to face the ordeal of her Jubilee in the following year. I re- 
member it particularly well, not only because of the importance 
of the occasion, but also because I had a bad toothache. 

The chief ceremony of the 1887 Jubilee was Her Majesty’s 
State procession through London, to attend a solemn service of 
thanksgiving at Westminster Abbey. The procession naturally 
placed a great strain on the Royal stables, and one to which 
they had not been accustomed for many years. While it was 
being formed an untoward event occurred, though I was quite 
unaware of it at the moment. Lord Lome, arrayed in all his 
Highland glory though not wearing a kilt, was about to mount 
his horse — not a trained charger from the Royal Mews, but 
one he had borrowed from a friend — ^when it took fright at his 
feathered bonnet. As he put his foot into the stirmp, the horse 
shied wildly away, and he fell on his back between it and the 
mounting block, luckily without hurting himself in any way. 
After this unfortunate adventure, and the absolute refusal of 
the horse to be ridden. Lord Lome decided to drive to West- 
minster for the service. I happened to see him in the Abbey, and 
said to him quite innocently that I hoped his horse had carried 
him well. It was, of course, a most unfortimate remark for, to 
my horror, he replied, ‘Haven’t you heard what happened?’ 
and then he told me all about it. I expressed my dismay and 
regret at the catastrophe; but at the same time I could not 
help feeling secretly glad that the offending charger was not one 
from the Royal Mews, for which my department was respon- 

Horaes, hke many human beings, are very vain. In the pro- 
cession, I rode a charger named The Rook; and directly he 
caught sight of himself in the large plate-glass windows of the 
shops, he seemed terribly pleased and walked with, if possible, 
extra swagger. At first, I could not imagine what was making 
him do this; but I very soon noticed that he pricked his ears as 
soon as he saw the ghtter of a shop-window. 








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Constitution Hill, 1887 

The officer in the foreground is G. R. T. Baker-Carr 

As Master of the Horse I had been ordered to lead the pro- 
cession of the Royal Princes, many representing the rulers of 
their countries. The most conspicuous, in his beautiful white 
tunic, was the Crown Prince Frederick of Prussia (afterwards 
the Emperor Frederick), the husband of Queen Victoria’s eldest 
daughter and father of Kaiser Wilhelm II. The procession passed 
up Constitution Hill, through the Arch, and then along Piccadilly, 
where a great many of my fiiends were in stands which had been 
erected on the wall of Devonshire House and elsewhere. I par- 
ticularly remember Mrs. (now Lady) Leslie being there. I men- 
tion her because at the Diamond Jubilee she was in exactly the 
same spot, and whenever I meet her we remind one another of 
our eye-meets on those two historical occasions. The procession 
then passed down St. James’s Street, and along Pall Mall and 
Whitehall to Westminster Abbey. After the service the proces- 
sion returned to Buckingham Palace, arriving there in time for 
luncheon. The whole thing was a perfect and striking success, 
and Queen Victoria had a tremendous reception. Her Majesty 
did not seem much fatigued, and expressed her delight at the 
welcome she had been given. It was really a most heart-touching 
tribute, and a wonderful expression of admiration and love for 
Her Majesty’s person. Many foreigners who had been present 
at State occasions in years gone by expressed their admiration 
and surprise at the wonderful sobriety of the people in general, 
and I remember that one of them remarked, ‘Why, years ago, 
on such a day as this, half the people would have been drunk. 
How do you account for this great improvement?’ I said I could 
only account for it by the better sense and better education of the 
people, and also perhaps by the wise regulations which had been 
made as to the quaUty of the beer and other liquids, as well as to 
the increasing taste for lemonade and non-alcoholic beverages 
in general. The streets of London were illuminated at night, 
and the crowd in St. James’s Street was so great that my friends 
and I were very glad to take refuge in St. James’s Park. Queen 
Victoria later attended a vast assembly of school children in 
Hyde Park, and received a no less enthusiastic reception. 


Two days later I received the following letter from Her 

Westosor Castle, 
June 23, 1887. 

*The Queen wishes to express to the Master of the Horse, her 
entire satisfaction at the manner in which everything was 
carried out in his Department during this time of the Jubilee 
and especially on the occasion of Thanksgiving Day. Nothing 
could have looked or done better than the procession did.’ 

On March 2nd, 1890, I received the following note from 

Windsor Castle, 
March 2, 1890. 

‘The Queen wishes to repeat her congratulations on the 
birth of the Duke of Portland’s daughter and the safety of the 

‘She wishes also to say that it would give the Queen great 
pleasure to stand sponsor to their little girl.’ 

This H.M. was kind enough to do in person; and, like all the 
other god-daughters of Queen Victoria, my daughter received 
Her Majesty’s own names Victoria Alexandrina. We were stay- 
ing at Frognal, near Ascot, which I had taken for a short time 
to give my wife a change of air; and the Colonel of the Blues 
complained that several of his troop-horses had been lamed, be- 
cause of the many messages of enquiry the Queen sent by them 
across the Park! 

In 1896 Her Majesty wrote me this very gracious letter when 
giving me the Grand Cross of the Royal Victorian Order: 

Windsor Castle 
May 16, 1896. 

‘The Queen, having just instituted a new Order to be given 
to those who have rendered personal service to herself, wishes 
to confer the Grand Gross upon the Duke of Portland on the 
occasion of her birthday, as a mark of her approval of his verv 


valuable service as Master of the Horse at the present time and 
also on the occasion of her Jubilee.’ 

At the same time, H.M. conferred the Honour upon Lord 
Colville of Gulross and Sir Dighton Probyn, V.G. 

At great ceremonies such as Levees and Courts, some of the 
Cabinet Ministers attend and stand facing the Sovereign. On 
one occasion, when Lord Salisbury was Prime Minister, we 
heard one of the Royal Princes exclaim, ‘Good God! Look at 
Lord Salisbury.’ We did so, and saw Lord SaHsbury wearing 
his blue Admiral’s uniform as an Elder Brother of Trinity 
House. But, lo and behold ! instead of large gold epaulettes he 
had two tiny litde knots on his broad shoulders; he had no 
Garter ribbon, and the Star, which should be worn on the left 
breast, was in the middle of his tummy; and instead of a large 
ivory-hilted Admiral’s sword, a small dirk hung from his belt. 
After the ceremony the Prince of Wales told Pembroke, then 
Lord Chamberlain, to make some enquiry as to Lord Salis- 
bury’s extraordinary dress. It would have been useless to ask 
Lord Salisbury himself, as he was much too great and busy a 
man to trouble about such trivial matters: so Lady Salisbury 
was informed, and she kindly promised to look into the 
qtiestion. She found that His Lordship’s valet had been taken 
suddenly ill, and that the servant who replaced him, knowing 
nothing about official dress, had found the uniform of a mid- 
shipman, and thought the trappings quite appropriate for 
his master. 

When I began life the only decorations that were worn with 
evening clothes — and then only at very important parties — 
were the ribbon and Star of the four great Orders, the Garter, 
the Thistle, St. Patrick and the Bath, and those of the Star of 
India, St. Michael and St. George, and the Indian Empire. 
Gradually the number increased, as the Victorian Order was 
instituted in 1887, while medals were issued in commemoration 
of Her Majesty’s two Jubilees and other events; and, by the 
express wish of the Prince of Wales, these also were worn. 


During one of the Kaiser’s visits to England, he was attended 
by a distinguished General, who wore a uniform decorated by 
two rows of ribbons. An inquisitive lady asked him what they 
commemorated, and he said, ‘The long row, them’s dinners. 
The short row, them’s battles.’ 

When the High Sheriffs of the various counties are appointed, 
the Prime Minister attends (or at all events then attended) a 
formal banquet to which the members of the Cabinet and the 
Three Great Officers of State are invited — these last, I suppose, 
as representing the Sovereign. After one such dinner, at which I 
was present, the Clerk of the Council produced an official docu- 
ment from a dispatch-box and handed it to Lord Salisbury. The 
counties were then taken in alphabetical order, and in each case 
the names of the individuals who were first on the list for ap- 
pointment as High Sheriff’ of their county were considered. 
Some of them sent excuses, which were read by the Clerk of the 
Council; and if they were considered of sufficient importance, 
the writer was excused from service for the year, and someone 
else appointed. The Chancellor of the Exchequer at the time 
was Sir Michael Hicks-Beach, sometimes called ‘Black Michael’ 
from the colour of his hair and beard, and his rather irascible 
temper. On this particular occasion, a letter of excuse came 
from a well-known landed proprietor; and his crowning argu- 
ment was, ‘When I succeeded to the estate I was unmarried, 
I had no children and ten thousand a year; now I have a 
wife, ten children and no thousands a year.’ When this weis read, 
‘Good God!’ exclaimed Black Michael, ‘whose fault is that? 
That’s no damned excuse at all I’ I remember that Lord Salisbury 
whispered to me, ‘Ho — ^Ho! The Chancellor of the Exchequer 
seems to be in one of his blackest moods to-night I I am sorry 
for those who make excuses.’ 

As I do not mention Black Michael elsewhere, I will add one 
more stoty which was current about him at the time, though it 
has nothing to do with the subject of this chapter. 

A stout, pompous and very self-important M.P. objected to 
some new form of taxation which Sir Michael had included in 


one of his Budgets. He expressed his intention, given the oppor- 
tunity, of letting Sir Michael know exactly what he thought of 
him. This came to Sir Michael’s ears, and he at once sent word 
that he would see the Member in his private room. The indi- 
vidual in question, blown out with pride, was escorted there by 
his friends and admirers, who remained at hand to await the 
discomfiture of Black Michael. After some minutes the door 
opened suddenly, and Black Michael was heard to say, T never 
heard such damned nonsense in my life, and you and your 
friends may go to the devil!’ The unlucky Member was then 
impelled through the doorway, looking like a pricked balloon. 

I myself had one slight brush with Sir Michael. Before the 
Diamond Jubilee of 1897, all departments of H.M.’s Household 
were ordered to prepare estimates of their likely requirements 
during the ceremonies. It was found that the State harness, 
which had, I believe, been in use for nearly a hundred years, 
stood in urgent need of repair; and the lowest tender my depart- 
ment could obtain for this amounted to a considerable sum of 
money. This was duly sent in as part of the estimate. When I met 
Sir Michael, he said, T have seen that ridiculous estimate for har- 
ness, and I strongly object to it’. ‘But, Sir Michael,’ I urged, ‘it 
is an absolute necessity — ^it must be repaired’. ‘I don’t see that at 
aU,’ said he; ‘and anyway, why the devil didn’t you have it kept 
in proper order?’ ‘It is nearly a hundred years old,’ was my 
reply, ‘and the leather has all perished.’ ‘I don’t care a damn,’ 
said Sir Michael; ‘all I know is that I refuse to spend a ridicu- 
lous sum like that on harness.’ A common friend heard of the 
difficulty, and told me to ignore it — ‘Gfo ahead with the work, 
and then send the bill in. You’ll hear no more from Sir Michael 
about it; but H.M. will certainly have more than a word to 
say, if she is left stranded in the street!’ Of course, I took his 
advice ; and the biU was paid without a murmur. 

On this great occasion, processions were formed on a more 
numerous and even larger scale than those of 1887, and the 
Queen attended a service held on the steps of St. Paul’s 
Cathedral. In arranging for Her Majesty’s carriage and 


attendant horsemen, it was found that the statue of Queen Anne 
not only seriously blocked the way, but obstructed the view of 
the vast crowd of people in front of the Cathedral. It was pro- 
posed that I should suggest to Her Majesty that Queen Anne’s 
statue should be temporarily moved; but this proposal met with 
little favour, for the Queen replied, ‘What a ridiculous idea! 
Move Queen Anne? Most certainly not ! Why, it might some 
day be suggested that my statue should be moved, which I 
should much dislike I’ After that, there was, of course, no more 
to be said, and I felt distinctly sorry for the indiscretion I had 

While making arrangements for the procession, I happened 
to arrive at the Mansion House very early one morning, to 
avoid the crowds in the City, with the carriages and horses 
which were to be used for the ceremony. As we were waiting 
outside, a young man appeared at a window in his dressing 
gown and called out to me in a cheery voice, ‘Good morning, 
Duke! Won’t you come in and have some turtle soup?’ I 
thanked him very much, but told him we were much too busy 
even for turtle soup at 7.30 in the morning ! 

On the great day, it was my duty to be present when the 
Queen entered her carriage at Buckingham Palace. Though it 
was June 21st, the weather was misty and cold, and on that par- 
ticular morning the sky looked very threatening. But as Her 
Majesty passed through the doorway of the Palace, the sun 
broke through the clouds ; and when H.M. entered her carriage, 
she and its other two occupants, the Princess of Wales and 
Princess Beatrice, were enveloped in bright, warm sunshine, 
which I and others took not only as a good omen for the success 
of the day, but as a special recognition by Providence of Her 
Majesty s great and glorious service to her people. Soon after- 
wards the clouds cleared entirely, and a spell of fine weather set 
in which lasted all through the summer. Of course the ex- 
pression ‘Queen’s weather’ was then proverbial; and I never saw 
a proverb more truly exemplified than on that occasion. 

The procession crossed the Thames at London Bridge, and 



returned to Buckingham Palace by the Elephant and Castle 
and Waterloo Bridge, H.M. being everywhere most enthusi- 
astically received. After passing the bridge I heard an ominous 
clatter behind me, and turned round just in time to see poor 
old Lord H.’s legs disappear over the back of his charger. As I 
could not leave the procession myself, I at once sent one of the 
Royal grooms to his aid. I am glad to say that Lord H. was in no 
way hurt. He had fainted from the heat of the sun, or perhaps 
from fatigue caused by the weight of his official dress ; for he was 
Gold Stick, and wore Life Guards’ uniform, with a cuirass, 
leather breeches and long jack-boots. 

The last occasion on which I attended Queen Victoria 
through the streets of London was at Her Majesty’s funeral. 
During the evening of January 22nd, 1901, I received this 
telegram from Sir Henry Ewart, the Crown Equerry 

22 Jan.y 1901 

Duke of Portland, 

Welbeck Abbey. 


Queen passed away 6.30 


I left at once for London. As is well known. Her Majesty 
died at Osborne in the Isle of Wight. The German Emperor 
was present at the time and, with King Edward, who had 
returned to Osborne after meeting the Privy Council on the 
day before, accompanied Her Majesty’s body to London. It 
was a most impressive voyage, as the Royal yacht steamed from 
Osborne, through the British Fleet, to Portsmouth. On Febru- 
ary 2nd the Royal Princes, with the Officers of the Household 
in attendance, met the funeral cortege at Victoria Station. Very 
fortunately the Queen, with wonderful forethought, had ar- 
ranged in her wiU the details of her funeral. She ordered that 
the coffin containing her remains should be carried through 
London on an ordinary Horse Artillery gun-carriage, and that 
the coffin should be draped with a plain Union Jack. A pro- 


cession was formed at Victoria Station, King Edward, mounted 
on his brown mare, and the Kaiser, on a grey charger, 
riding behind the gun-carriage, which was drawn by the 
familiar cream-coloured horses, the other Royal Princes 
following. As Master of the Horse I rode behind the King, who 
wore an open cloak over Field- Marshal’s uniform, and carried 
himself with the greatest dignity. The Kaiser, too, looked 
extremely well, and two grooms, wearing leather breeches and 
top boots, walked one on either side of his horse. The procession 
passed Buckingham Palace, up Constitution Hill, through the 
Arch, and then into Hyde Park. As long as I live I shall never 
forget that wonderful scene. It was a dull, very gloomy day 
in February — a most appropriate day for such an occasion. 
Various bands stationed in the streets played Chopin’s Marche 
Funehre\ and this was so well arranged that, as we passed on, 
the music of one band faded away in the distance and that of 
another immediately took its place. In Hyde Park were vast 
crowds of people, some of whom had even climbed the trees. 
Every head was bared, and except for the music and the tramp 
of the horses no sound could be heard. The procession then 
passed from Hyde Park through the Marble Arch to Padding- 
ton Station, where a special train was in waiting. 

The Lord Steward, the Lord Chamberlain, and I, with the 
Queen’s Equerry, Colonel Sir John McNeill, V.C., G.C.B., 
were detailed to remain with the coffin on the journey to 
Windsor. When we arrived, we found a gun-carriage and team 
of six horses of the Royal Artillery in waiting to convey the coffin 
to the Castle, Fortunately (as it turned out) there was a large 
guard of honour of bluejackets in attendance, commanded 
by Admiral Sir Michael Culme-Seymour, Bt., G.C.B. When 
the coffin was placed on the gun-carriage a painful contretemps 
occurred: on the order to march being given, the wheel horses 
jibbed and the leading horses reared up and fell backwards. For 
a few seconds the gun-carriage rocked from side to side 
and we feared the coffin might fall off. Fortunately, however, 
this did not happen, and Sir Michael called out in a stentorian 


voice, ‘My boys will soon put things right.’ He then ordered his 
bluejackets to see whether they could find ropes in the station, 
and they returned soon after with some made of wire. By this 
time the horses had been removed; and the bluejackets, formed 
to the gun-carriage, drew the coffin through the town and then 
up the hill facing the Long Walk, to the Castie. It was a most 
impressive procession. But even then the difficulties were not 
over. A horse ridden by an N.G.O. of the Household Cavalry, 
who bore the Royal Standard, became very restive. It plunged, 
very narrowly missing the Kaiser and myself, and eventually 
disappeared into the garden. The body of Her Majesty remained 
in St. George’s Chapel that night, and a few days afterwards 
was interred in Frogmore private chapel by that of the Prince 

With regard to the conduct of the funeral, I received letters 
from the Duke of Norfolk as Earl Marshal, Sir Edward Brad- 
ford, G.C.B., then Chief Commissioner of Police,^ and the late 
Earl Roberts. At this distance of time it is permissible, and may 
be of interest, to print them. They are as follows: 

, Norfolk House, 

St. James’s Square, S.W. 

Feb, 3, 1901. 

‘My Dear Portland, 

‘It is very good of you to write as you do but it was your work 
yesterday which was so faultless. I congratulate you most 
eamesdy and I hope you wiU offer my congratulations to 
Ewart. I feel very grateful indeed to you both for your great 
help and marvellous forbearance. We must indeed lay our 
heads together before the great event® impending, and we must 

was Sir Edward Bradford’s guest at Ajmir in 1 883, when he was Resident there. 
He had lost his arm under rather curious circumstances. Having fired at a tiger 
or panther — I forget which — from a machan and wounded it severely, he fell from 
the tree. The animal had sufficient strength left to attack him; and, with great 
presence of mind, Bradford thrust his arm into its mouth, to prevent it from bitiiig 
liixn in any vital spot. Fortunately someone killed it almost immediately. Sir 
Edward was a fine horseman; and it was really wonderful how, in the slippery 
streets of London, he controlled his horse with only one arm. 

®This was of coxirse the Coronation of King Ekiward VII. 


avoid the illusion of thinking that there are lots of time. I am 
quite clear that it will be for the general convenience to have 
this house as the centre for all questions of ceremonial and pro- 
gramme and use the [next?] house but one only for distribution 
of tickets and such matters. 

‘As regards the opening of Parliament my work is absolutely 
confined to what takes place inside the Palace of Westminster, so 
your duties and mine cannot mix. 

Yours very truly, 


50, South Audley Street, 

‘My Dear Duke, ^ rdFeb ., 1901. 

‘Thank you very rpuch for your kind note. I feel we do not 
deserve thanks for the small assistance we were able to give, but 
I can assure you it was a very great pleasure to do anything for a 
Dept, so splendidly organized as that of the Master of the 
Horse, & with such a good & considerate Chief at its head. 

‘It was a great relief to me to learn on my reaching Padding- 
ton that all those who left Victoria for Paddington after the 
Procession started — including the Marlborough House Grooms 
&c. had arrived in good time. 

‘I am very thankful the day passed off so well. With repeated 
thanks for your kindness in writing 

I am 

Yours sincerely, 

E. R. Bradford.’ 

Mackellar’s Hotel, 

17, Dover Street, 
Piccadilly, London, W. 

‘Dear Duke of Portland, \ thFeh .^ 1901- 

‘I am delighted to hear you found the soldiers helpful. You 
may depend on our doing what we can for you on any future 

Believe me, 

Yours sincerely, 



While writing of Queen Victoria, I remember receiving a 
telegram when I was at Newmarket, commanding my wife and 
myself to dine and sleep at Windsor Castle that evening. We 
of course obeyed H.M.*s command, and I returned to New- 
market next morning. On my arrival a message was brought to 
me, saying that the Prince of Wales wished to see me as soon as 
possible. I went to his rooms at once. H.R.H. said he knew that 
I had left Newmarket hurriedly the day before, to dine at 
Windsor; and that he had lately heard rather disturbing re- 
ports of the Queen’s health, but was unable to obtain really 
satisfactory replies to his enquiries. Would I be so good as to tell 
him whether H.M. seemed to be in her usual good health? I 
replied that, so far as I could tell, H.M. appeared to be very 
well and, moreover, to have enjoyed her dinner. ‘Tell me’, then 
said H.R.H., ‘did she have her usual sorbet during dinner.’ 
‘Yes,’ I replied; ‘I noticed it particularly.’ ‘Ah!’ said H.R.H. : 
‘then I think there can be little or nothing the matter; for no- 
body could eat such a horrible, cold thing as that, half-way 
through a meal, unless their digestion was in perfect order! I 
am extremely grateful for your very encouraging report.’ 

We were once commanded to dine and sleep at Windsor on a 
Saturday evening. We had arranged to visit Edgar and Helen 
Vincent at Esher the next day; but, late on Saturday night, we 
received an intimation that H.M. wished us to attend service at 
Frognal in the morning. The present Dean of Windsor, the 
Very Rev. A. V. Baillie, occupied the pulpit. He was then 
quite a young curate; and he asked Sir Henry Ponsonby for 
advice about his sermon. Sir Henry replied, ‘It doesn’t matter 
much what you say, because Her Majesty is too deaf to hear, and 
will probably go to sleep ; but on no account let it last for more 
tbqn five minutes.’ As Mr. Bailhe is now Dean of Windsor, I 
imagine that his sermon was approved. 

W^hen my wife and I were commanded to dine and sleep at 
Windsor by Queen Victoria, we always considered it (as of 
course it was) a very high and particular honour ; and we were 
naturally rather overcome by the awe which was created by the 


intimate presence of H.M. It is difficult to understand why one 
should have felt this so intensely, for no one could have been 
kinder than H.M. in her manner, appearance and speech. 
However, there it is; and I believe the feehng was shared by 
almost everyone, even by Lord Salisbury and the other great 
statesmen of the period. 

After Queen Victoria’s death, when we were invited by King 
Edward, we never — ^though we considered it an equally high 
honour — felt the same sensation of awe and constraint. Perhaps 
this was partly due to our having known both King Edward and 
Queen Alexandra for many years, and having so often met 
Their Majesties in ordinary circumstances, both among our 
friends and as our guests at Welbeck and elsewhere. 

I have read many books professing to describe Queen Vic- 
toria as she really was, not only as Queen, but as a woman; and, 
however well written or convincing they appear, I greatly 
doubt whether they have much true value as portraits of Her 
Majesty. Very few, other than the private Secretaries and 
Ladies-in-Waiting who passed many years in H.M.’s service, 
were at all intimately acquainted with the Queen; and none of 
them, I believe, would ever have spoken, much less written, 
tmguardedly of the Royal Mistress they knew and revered. So, 
merely on hearsay evidence, and on information gained from 
officially published letters, it is impossible, I believe, to write 
an intimate life of the Queen that is not to a great extent a 
work of imagination. 

The next important ceremony in which I was officially con- 
cerned was the Coronation of King Edward. By this time all the 
Departments of State were thoroughly accustomed to large cere- 
monies, which they had not been in 1887 1 and, as they received 
long notice through the postponement of the ceremony until the 
Autumn, owing to the serious iUness of H.M., everything was 
more or less easy and eventually went off without a hitch. 

Before the Coronation I had a remarkable dream. The State 
coach had to pass through the Arch at the Horse Guards on the 
way to Westminster Abbey. I dreamed that it stuck in the Arch, 


(H. Hoffmeister, 1889) 

Afterwards Lord Ranksborough 

and that some of the Life Guards on duty were compelled to 
hew off the Crown upon the coach, before it could be freed. 
When I told the Grown Equerry, Colonel Ewart, he laughed 
and said, ‘What do dreams matter?’ ‘At all events’, I replied, 
‘let us have the coach and the arch measured.’ So this was done ; 
and, to my astonishment, we found that the arch was nearly 
two feet too low to allow the coach to pass through. I returned 
to Colonel Ewart in triumph, and said, ‘What do you think of 
dreams now?’ ‘I think it’s damned fortunate you had one,’ he 
replied. It appears that the State Coach had not been driven 
through the arch for some time, and that the level of the road 
had since been raised during repairs. So I am not sorry that my 
dinner disagreed with me that night ; and I only wish all night- 
mares were as useful. 

A very few weeks before the ceremony, King Edward was 
told that the rehearsals in the Abbey were simply chaotic. No- 
body knew what to do, still less how to do it. H.M. therefore 
decided that the organisation should be carried out by officers 
of the Foot Guards, and he gave orders that they must set to 
work at once, and that everybody must obey them. 

The first chosen was our friend Polly Carew; so he and three 
other officers took charge at the next rehearsal. Among others 
present was of course the Prime Minister, Lord Salisbury. Dur- 
ing the proceedings he wore a skull cap, as was often his custom ; 
and I remember seeing him stand there, sometimes with an ex- 
tremely bored expression on his face, and at others with a look 
of amusement. 

When all were present, Polly addressed them, saying he had 
direct orders from His Majesty that everyone had to obey him 
implicitly. He continued ‘I understand that there has been a 
good deal too much “Please” with regard to these proceedings. 
That is a word I shall not use. The first thing we must do is to 
number off, and you. Lord Salisbury will be No. i.’ When he 
came to the ladies, he said, ‘You will kindly remember that you 
are under exactly the same discipHne. I forbid you to talk imder 
any circumstances whatever.’ They all seemed rather surprised, 


but very soon everybody obeyed orders, and it was extraor- 
dinary how smoothly all went. At the end, Polly said, Xhat is 
all for to-day. You may fall out; and I am glad to say that, on 
the whole, you are not quite so hopeless as I expected you would 
be.’ Lord Salisbury was exceedingly amused, and was heard to 
say, ‘What an able young man this seems to be!’ Someone sug- 
gested in fun, ‘Then why don’t you ask him to join your Cabi- 
net?’ But Lord Salisbury repHed, ‘He is much too good for that!’ 

The whole organisation turned out to be a tremendous suc- 
cess, and I think Polly deserved great credit for his work. Of 
course he was a particularly good-looking, charming and tactful 
man, and had a merry twinkle in his eye the whole time. He 
said afterwards, ‘I should think I am the first person, except 
Queen Victoria and Lady Salisbury, who has ever dared to give 
orders to the Prime Minister. And, what’s more, he obeyed 

Dr. Davidson, then Bishop of Winchester and later Arch- 
bishop of Canterbury, told me that before the Coronation cere- 
rnony, when they were waiting at the Abbey for the arrival of 
the ]^ng, he noticed that Dr. Temple, the venerable Primate, 
appeared rather feeble; and, thinking he might feel faint, he 
offered him a meat lozenge. ‘What’s the good of that?’ growled 
the Archbishop, ‘My trouble’s in my legs^ not in my stomach !’ 

During the Anointing, Dr. Temple had the necessary form of 
words held above him, because some eye trouble prevented his 
reading in comfort unless the writing was above his ordinary 
line of sight. This caused him to lose his balance and to lean 
very heavily on the King. Being a big man, I imagine he was no 
light weight. When we returned to Buckingham Palace, some- 
one said to King Edward, who appeared to have stood the 
strain of the ceremony very well indeed, that he hoped His 
Majesty was not greatly fatigued. ‘No,’ replied the King, 
‘wonderfully enough I am not unduly tired; and I certainly 
ought to be, for the convalescent King had to support the 
supposedly hale, hearty, and certainly weighty Archbishop for 
quite a long time !’ 



The Duchess of Buccleuch, then Mistress of the Robes, was 
often paired off with me; for the Master of the Horse and 
the Mistress of the Robes usually walk together on State oc- 
casions. The various ceremonies lasted for at least a fortnight, 
day and night. When at last they were over, I met the Duke 
of Buccleuch and asked him ‘How is the Duchess? I hope she 
is not too tired.’ He repHed with a twinkle in his eye, ‘This 
is about the limit! I am told that during the last fortnight 
you have never left my wife’s side by day or by night; and now 
you have the audacity to ask me how she is 1 It would be much 
more appropriate if I were to askjoM, for I have hardly seen her 
at all.’ 

My wife, the Duchess of Marlborough, the Duchess of 
Sutherland, and the Duchess of Montrose carried the canopy 
under which Queen Alexandra was anointed. These four ladies 
had to submit to being drilled in the garden of Buckingham 
Palace by Colonel Brocklehurst (afterwards Lord Ranks- 
borough). Queen Alexandra’s Equerry, formerly Colonel of 
the Royal Horse Guards (Blues). He made them fall in like 
soldiers for drill, and then said, ‘There must be no talking or 
kissing or laughing in the ranks — ^though, of course, you may 
kiss me afterwards, if you like. I shall address you as num- 
bers I, 2, 3 and 4. Now, all four, stand to attention! Numbers 
I and 2, take hold of the front poles of the canopy; 3 and 4 
take hold of the others. Now, lift up the poles. Number i, you 
are holding your pole too high. Number 2, yours is crooked. . . .’ 
They were all very much amused, but obeyed his orders 
implicidy — though I did not hear whether they kissed him after- 
wards ! When the day came, their part in the ceremony was a 
great success. A picture of the Queen under her canopy was 
afterwards engraved, and Queen Alexandra gave a signed copy 
of it to each of the bearers. The same ladies, with the exception 
of the Duchess of Marlborough, replaced by the Duchess of 
Hamilton, were again the canopy-bearers when Edng George 
and Queen Mary were crowned. 

My wife often acted as Mistress of the Robes to Queen 
I 129 

Alexandra, when the Duchess of Buccleuch was unable to be 
present; and she received the appointment herself from Queen 
Alexandra, after the death of King Edward. She enjoyed this 
duty, for she dearly loved Her Majesty, who was extremely kind 
to her; and I hope she also enjoyed walking with me as Master 
of the Horse in the processions! I believe we were the first 
husband and wife, at least within living memory, to walk 
together in this way. Needless to say our friends chaffed us a 
great deal about our appearance together. 

I desire to pay a tribute to those who faithfully and devotedly 
served King Edward for so many years, both as Prince of Wales 
and after his accession to the Throne. I refer particularly to the 
5th Lord Suffield ; to Sir Dighton Probyn, who gained the Vic- 
toria Gross during the Indian Mutiny when he commanded a 
famous Regiment known as Probyn’s Horse ; and to Sir Chris- 
topher Teesdale,^ who received the same decoration for his 
services under Sir Fenwick Williams during the memorable 
siege of Kars in 1855. They were both splendid soldiers and 
splendid men. 

I have heard that, on a certain occasion during the Mutiny, 
Probyn was at the head of his regiment. A rebel regiment ap- 
proached, and its commander shouted insults at Probyn, and 
challenged him to single combat. Probyn thereupon rode 
straight at him, and cut off his head with one stroke. The rebel 
regiment promptly fled. 

Lord Suffield was for many years a permanent Lord-in- 
Waiting, and a most loyal and devoted friend, to the Prince 
of Wales. He accompanied the Prince to India, and often 
slept outside H.R.H.’s tent if he foresaw the least possibility 
of any danger. He was a man of unusual courage, and would 
gladly have given his life for the Prince at any time. He 
married Miss Cecilia Baring, and became the father of Eliza- 
beth, Lady Hastings, and Lady Keppel, the wife of Sir Derek 

Colonel (afterwards Sir) Arthur Ellis, who had served with 

^His sister Rose was the mother of our friend Major Baker-Garr. 



distinction in the Crimea, was another trusted Equerry. Besides 
being a gallant soldier, he was a very clever and artistic man, 
full of knowledge of London Society and of the world in general. 
A fluent speaker of French, German, Italian, Hungarian and 
Russian, besides Hindustani, he proved invaluable to King 
Edward when he travelled abroad.^ He also gave His Majesty 
excellent advice on artistic matters; and I received two presents 
from the King which were designed and chosen by Sir Arthur. 

I may add that he was always particularly kind to me, and I 
much appreciated his friendship. 

Francis KnoUys, afterwards Lord KjioUys, was a most excel- 
lent private Secretary and general adviser to King Edward, 
both before and after his accession to the Throne. A man of 
consummate abihty and tact, he possessed a rather shy and 
retiring disposition united with the most perfect manners. His 
sister. Miss Charlotte Eoiollys, was for many years the confiden- 
tial secretary and, I may say, devoted friend of Queen Alexan- 
dra. They were the children of Gen. Sir William KnoUys, a dis- 
tinguished soldier and trusted courtier, for many years Comp- 
troUer of the Household to the Prince of Wales. 

No one, whether Queen, King or subject, could be more faith- 
fuUy or capably served than was Kng Edward by these five men, 
Suffield, Probyn, Teesdale, Ellis and ELnoUys. They were all 
men of the world and of the highest honour; and they never 
failed to give His Majesty their candid opinion, in plain lan- 
guage, whether they thought that it would meet with favour or 
the reverse. Kng Edward fiiUy appreciated their high quaUties, 
and was deeply attached to them. 

I must on no accoimt omit to mention two other equerries. 
Admiral Sir Henry (Harry) Stephenson, and Major-General 
Sir Stanley Clarke, who were of the same generation as those 
I have described. Sir Harry Stephenson was very dear to the 
Prince and Princess of Wales, for under his command and 
loving care their sons, the Duke of Clarence and the Duke of 

^My excellent servant Alfred West was formerly in his service, and travelled all 
over Europe with him. 


York, afterwards King George V, served as midshipmen in 
H.M.S. Bacchante during her world-cruise of 1881-1882. In later 
years, he and Admiral Sir Harry Keppel, to whom I shall refer 
again in Chapter VIII, both had chambers in the Albany. Sir 
Stanley Clarke was appointed equerry in 18745 after King 
Edward’s accession, became Clerk Marshal and Chief Equerry, 
and later Paymaster of the Household. 

There was a large gathering of foreign Royalties in London 
for the Coronation and on the evening of their arrival they 
were all invited to dine at the Palace. When they arrived, the 
Royal guests were assembled in a Drawing Room, and their 
attendants were taken to dine with the members of H.M.’s 
Household. Pembroke, Clarendon and I, who were then the 
three Great Officers of State, were commanded to dine with 
Their Majesties. The King told us that, when he arrived from 
Marlborough House, he wished to find everything ready for the 
procession to dinner, directly Queen Alexandra and he had 
made the circle. Under the circumstances, unfortunately, this 
was impossible, for none of us knew, even by sight, more than a 
few of the visiting Royalties; and, as there was nobody to help 
us to identify them, we could not tell them who ought to take 
whom in to dinner. 

Directly Their Majesties appeared, Pembroke and Clarendon 
told the King about our difficulty. King Edward at once under- 
stood, and said, ‘Never mind. Give me the lists, and I’ll pair 
them off myself.’ In a moment the whole difficulty seemed to 
fade into the air. When H.M. was making the circle, he said to 
the Queen, ‘Delay the proceedings as long as you can.’ Very 
soon there were only two Princes and Princesses left unpaired, 
and I heard H.M. say to Pembroke, ‘Goodness knows who they 
are; but I think the little, fat fellow must be So-and-So, and the 
other So-and-So. They had better go in to dinner together.’ The 
results of H.M.’s knowledge and tact were quite happy. Nobody 
seemed in the least offended, and the dinner went off very well. 

When the King, accompanied by Queen Alexandra, visited 
Edinburgh in May, 1903, for the first time after his accession, 


he was received at the Waverley station by the Lord Provost 
and other notables. Though it was quite a cold day, the Lord 
Provost appeared rather overwhelmed by the occasion, and 
certainly much overheated by the weight of his official robes, 
which included a black fur headdress. After offering the keys of 
the City to His Majesty, he presented a beautiful bouquet of 
flowers to Queen Alexandra; and as he bent over her hand to do 
so, a large drop of fur-stained perspiration fell from his nose on to 
her white kid glove. After the ceremony Queen Alexandra, who 
was always extremely kind and sympathetic, remarked, ‘Oh, the 
poor, poor man. How hot and nervous he seemed to be!’ 
Fortunately, the Lady in Waiting had a handkerchief at hand. 

The King’s carriages and horses were sent firom London, and 
the 1 7th Lancers, who were encamped in the Park at Dalkeith 
under the command of Colonel Douglas Haig, afterwards the 
celebrated Commander-in-Chief of the Army in France, sup- 
plied the escorts for His Majesty. The King and Queen and 
several Court officials, myself among them, lived at Dalkeith 
Palace, lent for the occasion by the 6th Duke and Duchess of 
Buccleuch. Dalkeith is a beautiful Charles II house, and in 
those days it was full of lovely pictures and works of art. Now, 
I believe, it is more or less dismantled, its contents having been 
taken to the Duke of Buccleuch’s other houses. 

One of the ceremonies at Edinburgh which I attended was 
the opening of the Morningside Hospital. At the end of the pro- 
ceedings, Queen Alexandra told me she felt very tired and had 
a headache, and that she wished to return to Dalkeith as quickly 
as possible. I therefore told the postilions to go as fast as they 
could; and, even with those heavy carriages, they covered the 
eight odd miles firom Morningside to Dalkeith in little more than 
forty minutes. I was very proud indeed of our harness horses, 
and of their good condition which enabled them to do this. The 
horses of the escort of the 1 7th Lancers never broke their trot till 
they passed through the entrance gate of Dalkeith when, as soon 
as they felt the grass under their feet, they nearly all broke into a 


I was also present at an inspection of the Royal Company of 
Archers in the grounds of Holyrood Palace. Many of the Archers 
were old men: indeed, one or two of them had served as officers 
in the Crimea. One of these, Sir James Fergusson, late of the 
Grenadier Guards, commanded the parade, when the Duke of 
Buccleuch, as Captain-General, presented His Majesty with a 
Reddendo.^ There was a high wind at the time and some of the 
plumes from the Archers’ bonnets were blown into the air. 
Because of this and the advanced age of so many of the Archers, 
a rumour spread that the ground they occupied had been 
strewn with eagles’ feathers and false teeth ! 

During our stay in Scotland Their Majesties honoured 
Glasgow with a visit. We went by train, the carriages and 
horses having been sent on to meet us, and on arrival we drove 
immediately to perform some ceremony. After this we pro- 
ceeded to a civic luncheon at the Town Hall. Some mistake had 
been made, however; for when we reached the Town Hall the 
Lord Provost had not yet arrived, and the King and Queen were 
received by an individual, coatless but wearing a red waistcoat, 
who was brushing the steps. I left the carriage as quickly as I 
could, to assist Their Majesties to alight, and the Lord Cham- 
berlain and the Lord Steward preceded them into the building, 
showing them into the first room they saw. By this time the 
coatless individual had thrown down his broom and disap- 
peared, shouting what sounded to me like, ‘Lord Almighty!’ 
In a few minutes the Lord Provost arrived, naturally in a terrible 
fuss ; but the charm and bonhomie of the Royal visitors soon put 
him at his ease. 

After one of the Levees a magnificent luncheon was given, at 
which every luxury of the season appeared. I can still, in 
memory, see and taste the wonderful and succulent roast quails. 

I also accompanied Their Majesties to Dublin in 1904, when 
they occupied the Viceregal Lodge. The other Great Officers of 

^This is a velvet ciphion pierced by a golden arrow. The Captain-General kneels 
on one knee, repeating some formula, and hands it to the King, who touches and 
returns it. 


State and I went on in advance, and we received Their Majes- 
ties when they arrived in the Royal Yacht at Kingstown. They 
were given a most loyal and enthusiastic welcome ah the way from 
Kingstown, through the outskirts of Dubhn and then through the 
City. Lord Dudley was Lord-Lieutenant, and George Wyndham 
the Chief Secretary for Ireland at the time. Lord Dudley re- 
sided in the Castle with his own and some of King Edward’s 
officials. Their Majesties were received everywhere with enthu- 
siasm, and I remember that, when they passed through the 
slums of Dublin after a visit to St. Patrick’s Cathedral, their re- 
ception was so enthusiastic that an old woman hurled a huge 
and dirty cabbage and knocked my hat off. A review of the troops 
took place in the Phoenix Park, when the King took the salute 
on horseback. After the review, as we rode back to the Vice- 
regal Lodge, the young troop-horses of the loth Royal Hus- 
sars became very restive. They plunged and kicked so wildly, 
when His Majesty rode through, that I became rather anxious 
for his safety. Nothing untoward happened, however, so all 
was well. 

A sad affair occurred during the visit to the Viceregal Lodge. 
The King owned an Irish terrier to which he was greatly 
attached, as was the dog to him. One day the King went to his 
room, and called ‘Paddy’ ; but alas, he found poor Paddy dead 
on his bed. This was a great sorrow to the King and Queen, 
for they were both very fond of the dog ; and we shared their 
grief. I believe the dog owed his imtimely end to having 
eaten some form of weed-killer, which the gardeners were 

When King Edward visited Paris in 1903, he met at first 
with a none too friendly reception ; but his tact and cordiality 
quickly gained the hearts of the people. At a State banquet 
given in His Majesty’s honour, the President proposed his 
health, and pledged it in a beautiful glass which had been 
made for the occasion. The glass was given to King Edward, at 
his own request. 

Shordy afterwards. President Loubet was invited to pay a 


return visit to Buckingham Palace. When the King proposed 
his health, in a charming speech delivered in perfect French, 
the same glass was handed to His Majesty, and from it he 
pledged the toast, asking the President to tell the French people 
that the glass had been used for this purpose, and that H.M. 
desired it to be considered as a token of sincere friendship 
between France and England. Of course this charming and 
tactful litde episode delighted the President, and perhaps 
helped to strengthen the friendly relations existing between the 
two countries. 

A certain nobleman, attached as Lord-in-Waiting to Presi- 
dent Loubet during his visit to England, said to the President 
on the morning after his arrival, ‘Bon jour, M. le President, 
j’espere que vous vous trouvez bien ce matin. Pour moi, je sens 
beaucoup mieux que je sentais hier.’ Naturally the President 
looked rather surprised ; but he rose nobly to the occasion, and 
said with a bow, ‘ Milor’, je suis enchante de vous voir si bien- 

It was sometimes my duty to meet distinguished foreigners at 
Dover or Victoria: so I learned at least one correct French sen- 
tence to use on these occasions — ‘J’espere bien que vous avez fait 
une bonne traversee!’ 

When Prince (afterwards King) Ferdinand of Bulgaria 
visited London, he was invited to a men’s dinner-party at 
Buckingham Palace. After dinner, he manoeuvred King 
Edward into a comer, and talked most earnestly to him. We 
noticed that H.M. seemed very uneasy, and that he made 
certain well-known signs for someone to come to his rescue. 
When the guests had taken their leave, and we were discus- 
sing the events of the evening, H.M. said, ‘I hardly ever felt 
so uncomfortable in my life as when that fellow got me into 
the comer. He’s one of the cleverest men in Europe. I knew 
he was trying to pick my brains all the time; so I did 

my best not to give myself away, and to say as httle as I 

It was my duty to accompany Foreign Royalties and other 


distinguished guests to official luncheons in the City. When 
the German Emperor visited England in 1891, he resided 
at Buckingham Palace. I was waiting in the h?^11 with Sir 
Edward Mallet, then British Ambassador in Berlin, for H.I.M. 
to appear, and I said to Sir Edward, ‘I understand that the 
Emperor is a very good speaker, but is sometimes rather indis- 
creet. you at all nervous about the speech he is to make to- 
day?’ ‘No,’ repHed MaUet. ‘He is sometimes terribly indis- 
creet, as you say j but I am not in the least anxious this morning.’ 
I asked him why not, and he replied, ‘Because I have the 
speech he is to deliver, in my coat-tail pocket, ready to hand to 
him when the time comes.’ I asked Mallet whether he had 
prepared the speech, and he repHed, ‘No, the Foreign Secre- 
tary did. He generally does on occasions like this — and a very 
good thing too, as it prevents any ill-considered remarks from 
being made or published.’ 

In due course, the Lord Mayor proposed the Kaiser’s health, 
and H.I.M. delivered the speech which had been prepared for 
him. My neighbour at luncheon remarked, ‘What perfect 
English the Kaiser speaks!’ to which I repHed, ‘Yes, doesn’t he!’ 
As a matter of fact, the Kaiser’s EngHsh was quite perfect; and 
he knew the whereabouts of the Clubs and other institutions of 
London as well as I did myself. 

After this visit, H.I.M. did me and the other Great Officers of 
State the honour of presenting us with busts and engravings of 
himself. He was never anything but kind to my wife and me; 
and when Titchfield was bom, H.I.M. and the Empress sent 
my wife the following telegram: 

Berlin Schloss. 3.49 p.m., March 18, 1893. 

‘Accept our best wishes for the birth of your son. We hope that 
you and the baby are going on well. 

William I R Victoria.’ 

During the South African War the Kaiser, by his ill-advised 
message to President Kruger, bitterly estranged public opinion 
in England, and deeply offended Queen Victoria. When the 


war was over, he proposed to pay her a visit, so that he might 
explain matters, but H.M. would not allow him to do so. After 
a time, however, the Queen relented, and gave him permission 
to come. H.I.M, arrived at Portsmouth, and proceeded by the 
South Eastern Railway to Windsor, where the Prince of Wales 
met him at the station. As Master of the Horse it was my duty to 
accompany H.R.H. We drove straight to the Gasde, where 
Queen Victoria was at the door ; and, hardly waiting for the 
carriage-steps to be let down, H.I.M. jumped out, threw his 
arms round the Queen, and warmly kissed her on both cheeks. 
I felt convinced that he was really delighted to see H.M. again, 
and that, being by nature very highly strung, he could not 
control his emotion when he met her. 

I had the honour of meeting H.I.M. on many other occasions 
when he was visiting Windsor. I well remember being awaJkened 
one morning by the bagpipes of a piper, who played in the 
Gasde garden. As I could not go to sleep again, I got up and 
looked out of the window. There I saw a strange figure, wearing 
a long, green, double-breasted tunic with a gold belt and a 
dagger attached, long boots, and on his head a sort of cocked- 
hat, with a long feather fastened at one side by a gold rosette. At 
first I thought it must be a troubadour, or someone of the 
kind. Then I saw that it was the Kaiser, out for a morning con- 
stitutional. I did not accompany the shooting party on that 
day; but I was told that, after limcheon, H.I.M. seized a thick 
oak-branch with his sound arm, and held easily on while he 
allowed it to swing him firom the ground. 

On another occasion I accompanied the present King and 
Queen of Italy into the Gity. It was a very cold, gloomy day, I 
think in November. On our way, the sun suddenly broke 
through the clouds, and I said, ‘I believe it is going to be a fine 
day after all’. ‘H’m,’ replied the King rather acidly, ‘what you 
may consider a fine day in this country, perhaps.’ There were 
great crowds of spectators, and on the way we three times passed 
my wife, who was in a carriage. The King said to me, ‘Look at 
that lovely woman ! I wonder who in the world it can be.’ When 


I told H.M. that it was my wife, who, as a girl, knew him in 
Rome, he rose in the carriage and bowed to her. 

When luncheon was over, it was my duty to see that the 
carriages were ready, and then to announce them to the royal 
guests. On these occasions, the male royalties remained with the 
Lord Mayor, for coffee and cigarettes, while the ladies accom- 
panied the Lady Mayoress into another room. When I 
announced the carriages, the King and the Lord Mayor came 
on to the landing, where the Queen was waiting for them. The 
Lord Mayor had just hghted a large cigar, and appeared with 
it in his mouth. One of his officials drew his attention to the 
cigar, and the poor man was so much overcome that he rammed 
the hghted end into the palm of his hand, uttered a loud ‘Damn !’ 
and then threw the burning cigar downstairs, when it emitted 
sparks Kke a torch. I am afraid his hand must have pained him 

The last personal service which I was fortunate enough to 
render to King George was when he did me, as President of 
the Queen’s Nurses, the honour of appointing me Chairman 
of the Committee to arrange the visible memorial to Queen 
Alexandra. The other members of the Committee were Lady 
Kenmare, representing Ireland; Lady Haig, representing Scot- 
land; Lord Crawford and Balcarres, Lord Knutsfbrd, Sir 
Harold Boulton, Sir Lionel Earle and Colonel Sir Henry Streat- 
field, with Mr. H. R. Mitchell as our excellent secretary. I am 
glad of this opportunity to thank him, and to pay a tribute to 
his ability. By his knowledge and tact he greatly helped our 
work. A room at Buckingham Palace was placed at our disposal. 
Alfred Gilbert, who had returned to England after many years’ 
absence, in order to complete the monument of the Duke of 
Clarence in St. George’s Chapel, Windsor, submitted designs for 
a memorial to Her Majesty. He was very well acquainted with, 
and indeed devoted to, ^een Alexandra; and, after mature 
consideration, the designs were approved by King George. 

It was decided that the memorial should be placed in the 
wall of Marlborough House garden, facing the Colour Court of 


St. James’s Palace, the reason being that Queen Alexandra 
when Princess of Wales, and her children, often watched the 
Guard mounting from that spot ; and it was therefore closely 
associated with Her Majesty. In the original design, the bronze- 
work extended to the large wooden gates in the wall, and the 
intention was that they should form part of the Memorial; but, 
in this form, the scheme proved too expensive to be carried out. 
Gilbert hoped, however, that his design might be completed at 
a later date. 

After six years, Gilbert finished the memorial, which was 
cast by Mr. A. B. Burton of Thames Ditton. It was unveiled on 
June 8th, 1932, by the King, accompanied by the Queen and 
many other members of the Royal Family. When my wife 
and I arrived at Windsor Castle the same evening, as Their 
Majesties’ guests for Ascot Races, the King sent for me and — 
though I protested that I did not deserve or desire any honour 
besides that of having helped His Majesty — did me the great 
honour of investing me with the Royal Victorian Chain. The 
other individuals who then possessed this honour, apart from 
the Royal Princes, were the Archbishop of Canterbury, the 
Marquess of Crewe and Lord Hardinge of Penshurst. I am 
exceedingly glad that, a few days after the ceremony, the merit 
of Gilbert’s work was recognised by His Majesty, who conferred 
the honour of Knighthood upon him, and also by the Royal 
Academy, of which he was re-elected a Member. 

★ ★ ★ 

‘The King’s life is moving peacefully towards its close. 

Frederic Willans, 
Stanley Hewett, 
Dawson of Penn.’ 

This momentous announcement flashed through the Em- 
pire at 9.25 p.m. on Monday, January 20th, 1936; and the 
statement was repeated at intervals of a quarter of an hour until 
midnight. Sir Ronald Graham, Captain Sir John Carew Pole, 
my wife and I were waiting in the Gothic Hall at Welbeck with 


sorrow in our hearts when at 12.15 a.m. we heard the sad, 
though expected words, ‘Death came peacefully to the King at 
^ ^ *55 in the presence of Her Majesty the Queen, the Prince 

of Wales, the Duke of York, the Princess Royal, and the Duke 
and Duchess of Kent.’ Then we knew that all was over; that our 
King was at rest; and that we had lost not only a beloved and 
honoured Sovereign, but also a very long-standing, kind and 
faithful friend, to whom we were both devoted. 


I look back with great pleasure to riding in Rotten Row. For a 
few years after 1880 the fashionable hour was before lun- 
cheon, from 12 till 2. A litde later it changed to between 5 
and 7. Later still, between 9 and 1 1 in the morning became 
fashionable; and those who rode at an earlier hour were known, 
for obvious reasons, as the ‘Liver Brigade’. During the fashion- 
able hour, everyone rode the best looking hacks they could 
afford to keep, and were de rigueur dressed in black morning 
coats and beautifully fitting^ dark blue or black overalls 
strapped down over highly poKshed Wellington boots with 
silver box-spurs, more, I hope, for show than for use. Many 
ladies, and some of the older men too, were followed at a 
respectful distance by a groom, dressed in Hvery with a high 
hat and cockade. A cockade, I beheve, .denoted that the 
wearer was the servant of a peer or a magistrate ; but this rule 
was very httle observed. The horses were beautifully groomed 
and turned out, often with coloured brow-bands, horses from 
the Royal Stable having red bands. Very high prices were 
given for Park hacks, sometimes as much as three, four or five 
hundred guineas. Indeed, I have heard of even a thousand 
guineas being asked, and given, for an exceptional animal. 
When polo became a popular game, its players often rode their 
ponies as hacks in the Park, though chiefly in the morning, and 
not at the evening parades. 

Two of the most beautiful horses I remember belonged to 
Lord Galthorpe and to Mr. Poole, the Saville Row tailor. Lord 
Lonsdale, too, rode beautiful chestnut hacks. But of all these, I 

^For the most part; for, of course, this depended upon their legs and their tailors! 


Mrs. Walters 

(J. Wheeler) 

See Appendix VII 

think the best was that ridden by the famous ‘Skitdes’, whose 
name was, I believe, Mrs. Walters. A very beautiful horse- 
woman, whether in Rotten Row or in the hunting field, she 
possessed a perfect figure, and wore the tightest and most per- 
fectly fitting riding-habit which showed it off to great advantage. 

In her younger days, ‘Skittles’ often hunted with the Quom 
Hounds, riding horses lent to her by an admirer of Hebrew 
origin, who hunted from Melton. One day he and his horse fell 
into a brook. ‘Skittles’ jumped over them both, turned round, 
kissed her hand and said, ‘Moses in the bulrushes, I seel’ This 
is only one of the many good stories I have heard about 
‘Skitdes’ ; but the others are rather less suitable for publication. 
Many years after she had given up riding in Rotten Row, a 
friend of mine pointed to an old lady in a bath-chair and asked 
me, ‘Do you know who that is?’ I looked at the old lady and 
said, ‘No.’ ‘Well,’ said my friend, ‘that’s “Skitdes”.’ 

Mr. Mackenzie-Grieve, who Hved in Paris, and was, I believe, 
at one time a starter of the French Jockey Club, usually came over 
for a few weeks during the London season. He was, taken all in 
aU, the best exponenjt I ever saw of the art of haute ecole riding, 
an art, I fear, now nearly lost except in the Spanish Riding 
School at Vienna; and it was a pleasure to watch the man- 
ner in which he handled his mounts, showing them and 
himself off to the best advantage. An exquisite horseman, with 
perfect hands, figure and seat, he usually wore a dark blue, 
tight-fitting frock-coat, beautifully cut overalls, and a volumi- 
nous bow-tie such as the French dandies affected at the time. 
I had the honour of lending him my hack Daisy — and how 
well he showed it off! For Daisy had splendid action, both at 
the trot and at the canter, and was certainly all the better for 
this experience. 

Lord Annaly, well known as a most successful Master of the 
Pytchley Hoxmds, was also a perfect horseman. I gave him a 
little thoroughbred horse by Ayrshire— Modwena, own sister to 
Donovan, a beautiful little animal but an adept at kicking. I 
have seen Annaly ride up Rotten Row, sitting as if in an arm 


chair and bowing to his friends right and left, while the horse 
stood practically on its head, with its heels high in the air, kick- 
ing for all it was worth. 

Colonel John Brocklehurst of the Blues, afterwards Lord 
Ranksborough, was another beautiful horseman. So was Algie 
Gordon-Lennox. I remember that he sometimes used a bit with 
a single rein, which seemed to have no leather fastenings at all. 
When he and his daughter Ivy, now my daughter-in-law, ap- 
peared together they made a perfect pair, both as to horseman- 
ship and general turn-out. 

A certain lady who wore an unusually large white cravat was 
often accompanied by a friend in white overalls, in those days 
called white ducks. No one knew whether the lady’s ties were 
made of the material left over from the gentleman’s overalls, or 
whether his overalls were made of material left over from her 
cravats ! Which ever it may have been, they were both very 
smart and becoming. 

An Austrian diplomat of my acquaintance, Herr H., though 
not at aU a good horseman, was an assiduous rider in Rotten 
Row — chiefly, I imagine, for the sake of exercise. It could not 
have been to display his horsemanship for, unlike most Austrians 
and Hungarians, he was one of the worst exponents of the art 
I ever saw. A fiiend met him in Rotten Row one day, and 
attempted to enter into conversation; but H.’s only remark was, 
‘Please go away, sir. Can’t you see I am busy riding?’ I only 
once saw him in the hunting field, when he fell off at the first 
fence and appeared no more. Though a shockingly bad horse- 
man, I believe he had an excellent brain and proved a very 
successful diplomat. 

During the midday or evening parade it was considered very 
bad form to ride at a faster pace than a canter, for fear, no 
doubt, of splashing mud over one’s immaculately turned-out 
companions or upsetting their horses. The horse ridden by one 
luckless individual ran away with him, and collided with the 
Prince and Princess of Wales, who were riding in Rotten Row at 
the time. This mishap gave rise to a capital comic song, of which 


Master of the Pytchley Hounds, 1902-14 


the chorus ran, ‘The snob, the snob, the galloping snob of Rotten 
Row.’ The then Lord Hardwicke often sang this after dinner 
with great gusto. He had quite a good, rollicking tenor voice, 
and rode a chair in imitation of the ‘galloping snob’ as he 
sang it. He was sometimes known as ‘old Cider’, because he 
sang another song with the refrain, ‘and a little more cider, 

I never failed to put in an appearance in Rotten Row when I 
could, as not only was it a pleasant form of exercise, but I also 
found it a most enjoyable way of meeting one’s friends; for 
many of those who did not ride sat on chairs facing the Row, 
and came to talk to their mounted friends over the rails. One of 
my first memories is of riding there with my father and my 
young brother Bill, whose pony threw him off opposite the 
Cavalry Barracks, covering him with mud. An officer of the 
Life Guards, who saw the accident — I think it was Colonel Keith 
Fraser — ^very kindly took him into the Barracks and sent for a 
trooper, who did his best to remove the mud with a horse- 
scraper. Very often one of these officers made an appearance in 
the Row, wearing his undress uniform and mounted on a beau- 
tiful black charger. I need hardly say that he seemed always 
to be a great favourite with the ladies when he did so. 

I was in the Park, on a very hot evening, when I saw a 
policeman do what seemed to me a most courageous thing. 
A white bull-terrier was rushing about, foaming at the mouth, 
and showing every sign of rabies. Without a moment’s hesi- 
tation the policeman seized it by the tail, whirled it round, 
and smashed its skull against a lamp-post, thereby, I have no 
doubt, saving many people from being bitten. We all thought 
it a wonderful instance of courage and presence of mind. He 
must have been a very strong man, for the dog’s head hit the 
lamp-post so hard that it made a hole in it, which remained 
there for some time. 

The only persons who have the right to drive up Rotten Row 
are the Sovereign and the Duke of St. Albans, the latter in right 
of his office as Hereditary Grand Falconer; but Lord Charles 



Beresford^ made a bet that he would do so. In order to win 
it, he tipped the driver of the cart which watered the Row in 
dry weather, to let him sit beside him and hold the reins ; and 
in this way he drove the whole length of the Row. So Charlie 
very rightly won his bet; and I think he chose a most ingenious 
method of doing so. 

I remember only one really serious accident in the Row, 
when a lady’s hack ran away with her, and attempted to jump 
the railings into Kensington Gardens. It naturally failed to do 
so, and was transfixed ; but I believe the lady was more fright- 
ened than hurt. I also remember being told of a runaway horse 
which crashed through the railings in front of Buckingham 
Palace, and, curiously enough, was not seriously injured. 

The meets of the Four-in-Hand and Coaching Clubs, at the 
Magazine and the Horse Guards’ Parade, always created great 
interest; and the coaches and horses were most beautifully 
turned out. The Princess of Wales nearly always honoured 
these meets by her presence, in her own beautiful carriage, and 
sometimes the Prince of Wales occupied the box seat of the coach 
driven by the Duke of Beaufort, who was President of the Club, 
or that of some other leading member. I have given an account 
of the Four-in-Hand Club in Chapter X of my book Memories of 
Racing and Hunting (1935): but I did not include an illustration 
of a meet, so I repair the omission now. 

The State coach, though a very picturesque conveyance, 
elaborately and tastefully painted, was even then ceasing to be 
used by private individuals. It has now, I believe, completely 
disappeared, except for those owned by the Speaker, the Lord 
Mayor of London and the Provost of King’s College, Cambridge. 
I think that very, very few suitable horses to draw i-h«=-Tn or 
coachmen to drive them, any longer exist. This type of carriage 
was used only for Court ceremonies and very important dinner- 
parties, at which the Prince and Princess of Wales or other 
leading Royalties were expected to be present. There were two 

am informed that the story has also been told of Lord Marcus Beresford; but I 
believe this to be a mistake. 


Hyde Park, 1882 


Left to Right: Portland, Lord Hastings, Marquess of Zetland, Lord Douglas 
Gordon, Earl of Enni s killen, Peter Flower, Lord W. Bentinck, Lord 
Lurgan, G. J. Coates, Mr. Gass. 

kinds of State carriage — the State coach, holding four inside 
passengers, driven by a coachman wearing a wig and silk 
stockings, with two footmen standing behind; and the State 
cabriolet, a square-fronted carriage, which held only two 
passengers. The State cabriolet I remember best was owned 
by H.R.H. the Duke of Cambridge, for so long Gommander- 
in-Chief of the Army, who drove in it from Gloucester House, 
his residence at the end of Park Lane, to the various State 
ceremonies. He found great difficulty in leaving and entering 
it, and had to be practically lifted out and in again by two 
stalwart footmen. 

Fortimately I never possessed one of these carriages; but, 
during the sixteen years when I was Master of the Horse, my 
wife and I used one of the Royal State coaches, with three foot- 
men behind, whenever we attended ceremonies. To this 
carriage were generally harnessed two black Hanoverian 
stallions. They were rather sulky brutes, and one evening one 
of them lay down under the arch in front of Buckingham 
Palace and refused to move, so we had to finish the journey on 
foot. Fortunately there was a side door close by, leading into the 

During my first years in London, there were stiU a few cabrio- 
lets to be seen in the Park during the season. For the benefit of 
my younger readers, I should explain that a cabriolet was a 
two-wheeled carriage, hung on C-springs and surmounted by an 
elegant hood, at the back of which a tiny groom, smartly turned 
out in top-boots, tight leather breeches and a livery coat with a 
high hat and cockade, balanced himself by clinging to two 
straps. The best cabriolets were built by Barker. The vehicle 
was drawn by one horse, and really suitable animals were most 
difficult to find, for they were of a very rare type. Animals with 
hackney action were not at aU suitable; nor were the ordinary 
Park carriage horses. The ideal animal, to my mind, was an 
almost if not quite thoroughbred horse or mare, with power, 
quality and high but light trotting-action. 

I remember that Lord Rosebery was the owner of one such 


cabriolet; but Lord Calthorpe drove, in my opinion, by far the 
best. His horses, hacks and cabriolets were all perfect. He lived 
in Grosvenor Square; and it always delighted me to see his 
cabriolet or hack waiting for him. He purchased many of his 
horses from G. Sheward, a well-known dealer, whose speciality 
it was to find and procure these animals, and also the most 
beautiful Park hacks. I have heard it said that Calthorpe — a 
wealthy man — ^would give as much as a thousand guineas for a 
suitable animal. 

An acquaintance of mine. Bob B., drove a cabriolet with a 
handsome white horse in the shafts. He invited a party to lun- 
cheon one day, during the summer, but did not arrive home in 
time to greet his guests. The cabriolet was standing outside the 
house, and one of the guests, an inveterate practical joker, 
said, ‘Let’s give Bob a surprise.’ He then took a large bowl 
of strawberries and cream, dabbed its contents all over the 
horse, and remarked, T think it will give Bob rather a start, 
when he finds his pet grey is now a strawberry roan !’ 

Another beautiful Park carriage in use at the time was the 
curricle. It resembled a two-wheeled phaeton on G-springs, 
drawn by a pair of horses, with a pole between them, and a bar 
across their necks. The only carriage of this type which I remem- 
ber was owned and driven by the then Lord Tollemache, with 
beautiful, brown, high-quality horses. 

As the Park phaeton took the place of the curricle, so cabrio- 
lets were succeeded by what were known as buggies. A buggy 
was a very smart gig, sometimes with a hood, to which was 
attached a lighter and less powerful horse than that needed 
for a cabriolet. It made a convenient little conveyance for getting 
quickly through the traffic of London ; but in this case the groom 
sat by the side of the driver instead of standing behind, so there 
was no room for a passenger. I remember driving a buggy 
through the City, to Liverpool Street Station, when my horse 
slipped upon the asphalt pavement. I came a tremendous 
cropper and fell imder the horses of an omnibus. Fortunately 
they were not moving at the time, so I was not badly hurt, and 



(J. Ferneley 1830) 

By permission of Mr. H. Arthurton 


(A. Spooner, 1912) 

escaped with a shaking and bruised elbows. I am glad to say I 
caught my train, and won a race at Newmarket later in the day ! 

What the newspapers termed the Ladies’ Mile was a really 
wonderful sight, and I have seen nothing to equal it in any 
other city in Europe. Beautiful horses and carriages, in which 
were seated the most lovely ladies, were driven slowly up and 
down. The Princess of Wales often appeared, in the morning in 
a Victoria or some light type of carriage, and in the evening in a 
splendidly turned out barouche. When she did so, it was usual 
for all other carriages to remain as far as possible at a standstill. 
Lady Londonderry had a specially noticeable barouche ; and I 
remember often admiring Lord Sefton’s liver-chestnut horses. A 
barouche was a large carriage on G-springs, with a coachman 
and footman on the box — the coachman wearing a wig and 
knee-breeches; the footman also in knee-breeches, and with 
powdered hair. 

In the morning a few ladies drove Park phaetons drawn by 
well-bred ponies or small well-bred horses, and carried carriage 
whips with sunshades attached to them. An amusing story was 
told about one of these fair drivers. She drove a phaeton with a 
loose rein out of the Park at Hyde Park Corner, and, in doing so, 
drove the point of the pole through the side window of a hansom- 
cab. The cabby, not unnaturally, began to express his feelings in 
very strong language; but when he saw the lady he was so over- 
come by her beauty that he took off his hat and said, ‘You’re very, 
very beautiful indeed, my dear; but how much safer you, and 
everyone else, would be if only you would allow your coach- 
man to drive !’ He was quite right in calling the lady beautiful, 
for I have seen few women who were worthier of being so 

In the morning, my wife used a little carriage drawn by 
white Lipizzaner ponies. When I visited Vienna I was taken by 
Prince Rudolph Liechtenstein, Master of the Horse to the Em- 
peror of Austria, to see the Imperial stables, where there was a 
vast number of Lipizzaner horses and ponies. They were called 
Lipizzaner because they were bred at Lipizza near Trieste, 


which I also visited with Liechtenstein. A full account of this 
stud, written by Count Ferdinand Kinsky and Count van der 
Straten, will be found in Appendix V. After my visit, Liech- 
tenstein asked me to find four Jersey cows for the Empress 
Elizabeth. I did so, and the Emperor gave me two Lipizzaner 
mares in return. This, at the time, was considered a special 
honour, because these ponies were never as a rule sold or given 
away. After a few years, owing, I suppose, to the size of the 
stud, Liechtenstein wrote to ask whether I should Hke some 
more ponies. He then sent me eight mares and a stallion; 
and I bred from them at Welbeck until the Great War, 
which put an end to all unnecessary expenses. Of course 
the introduction of motor cars and their admission to Hyde 
Park quickly did away with the use of carriages. This was in 
many ways a great pity, for Hyde Park in the evening was in- 
deed a beautiful sight, and nothing could be found to equal 
it, as I have said before, an^’where else in the world. 

It was considered very bad manners to smoke in Rotten 
Row — or, indeed, in the streets of London at all. I well remem- 
ber a young brother-officer in the Coldstream being severely 
reprimanded by the C.O. of the battahon, because he had been 
seen in Hyde Park talking to a lady, with a cigarette in his 
mouth. He was told that it must never occur again; and the 
matter was reported to the senior subaltern — ^with the usual 

Cigarette smoking was, I beheve, introduced into England 
after the Crimean War, the officers serving there having ac- 
quired the habit from the Turks and French. It was the custom 
then to make one’s own cigarettes, generally of Turkish tobacco ; 
but cigarette smoking was neither so popular nor so widely tolera- 
ted as it is to-day. I remember hearing an individual, who some- 
times hunted with the Quorn, described as ‘the sort of fellow who 
rides slowly about the lanes, smoking gold-tipped cigarettes’. In 
most large houses a smoking room was set apart for the use of 
male guests. After a cigarette with coffee, it was not the custom 
to smoke again until the ladies had gone to bed, when those who 


(R. L. Lauchert, 1863) 

By gracious permission of H.M. the King 

wished to do so changed their evening clothes for smoking suits, 
and passed the rest of the evening in the smoking or billiard- 

In those days, very few ladies smoked in public, though 
if they did so in private, it was their own business and nobody 
else’s! Personally, I am all for ladies smoking cigarettes, 
cigars, pipes, or anything else, if they really enjoy them; but 
surely it is neither becoming nor attractive for an otherwise pretty 
and charming young woman to appear with a half-smoked 
cigarette hanging from her vividly painted lips, and with 
henna-coloured nails at the end of yellow, nicotine-stained 
fingers. In my youth I was taught that pearls feU from ladies’ 
lips ; but that has all been altered of late and, instead of pearls, 
a half-chewed and dirty cigarette seems only too often to take 
their place. 

At the time of which I am writing, very few ladies among my 
own friends used paint upon their lips or faces: indeed, I can 
count the few who did so on the fingers of one hand. That form 
of decoration was left to ladies of the stage and the demimonde. I 
remember a well-known beauty, who was reported to use cos- 
metics, saying to the person she believed to have spread the 
rumour, ‘Please be so good as to wipe my face with this clean 
handkerchief; and if none of my complexion comes oflf, you will 
kindly deny the report you have spread, and will send me an 
apology as well.’ 

I am sometimes asked about the comparative beauty of the 
ladies of fifty or sixty years ago and those of the present day. 
With much diffidence, and the feeling that I am skating on very 
thin ice, I venture to express the opinion that, though there are 
perhaps a greater number of pretty women to-day, I do not 
think there are any such really beautiful women as there were in 
those days. This opinion may be partly due to the glamour of 
youth, but probably also to the more becoming clothes at present 
worn, and the free (and in my opinion often excessive) use of 
cosmetics, and other beauty-parlour tricks, to which I have just 

Among the ladies of a rather older generation than mine, 
I well remember the wonderful beauty of the Princess of 
Wales, afterwards Queen Alexandra ; of Georgina, Countess of 
Dudley, and of her sisters. Lady Forbes and Lady Muir- 
Mackenzie of Delvine; of Lady Feversham, the mother of 
the beautiful Duchess of Leinster, Lady Helen Vincent (now 
Lady D’Abernon), Lady Cynthia Graham, and Lady Ulrica 
Baring; the striking beauty of Countess Karolyi-Erdody, the 
wife of Count Karolyi, the Austro-Hungarian Ambassador 
in London; and of Lady Bective, famous for her wonderful 
grace of movement, the mother of my sister-in-law Lady 
Henry Bentinck, who is also a beautiful woman. These ladies 
were at the zenith of their beauty when I met them, a beauty 
which Queen Alexandra, Lady Dudley and Countess Karolyi 
kept almost unimpaired till the end of their lives, retaining 
their natural charm and grace to a quite marvellous extent. 
It did not matter where they were, in London or in the 
country, during the day or at evening parties ; they were always 
the same, taking pains to be amiable and delightful to every 
class of individual. 

Blanchie Lennox tells me that, when a child, she saw the 
Empress Elizabeth of Austria and Lady Dudley together on the 
steps of Dudley House. She says she has never forgotten, and 
never will forget, the impression which their beauty made upon 
her. Though of course many years have passed since then, she 
can still see them, both about the same height, and both with 
the most glorious auburn hair. Their combined beauty and 
charm were quite dazzHng. 

When in the Highlands of Scotland, her native country. Lady 
Dudley flew over the heather, up hill and down dale, with long 
strides and the lightest possible footsteps. She and I once walked 
eight long miles from Braemore Lodge, and up the steep hill to 
Langwell, in just over two hours and a half, which we thought 
very good going in those days. She told me that, when her late 
husband leased the Black Mount deer forest from Lord Bread- 
albane, she accompanied the stalkers to the hill; and, when 


Afterwards Countess of Dudley 
As Mary Queen of Scots, Mar Lodge, 1864 



Copyright by E. Manuel Hutschnecker 

j ' -j- 

■i'i ►%v,V’':l»4r, A'' - 


(Winterhalter) (Winterhalter) 

there were deer-drives, she often walked with the stalkers and 
ghillies, and did not sit in the butts. 

Of my own generation, perhaps the outstanding beauties 
were Lady Hermione Duncombe, afterwards Duchess of 
Leinster, and her sister Lady Helen Vincent, now Lady D’ Aber- 
non; Lady Verulam, Violet, Duchess of Montrose, and Lady 
Houghton, all three lineal descendants of Richard Brinsley 
Sheridan who married the beautiful Miss Lindley, as is Mrs. 
Hall- Walker, now Lady Wavertree; Lady Ramsay, afterwards 
Lady Dalhousie ; Lady Lonsdale, afterwards Lady Ripon ; 
MiUicent, Duchess of Sutherland; Lady Gastlereagh, ^ter- 
wards Lady Londonderry; Lady Mary Mills; Countess Sieg- 
fried Clary, now Princess Clary; Mrs. Gerard, afterwards Lady 
Gerard; Mrs. Arthur Sassoon; Lady Eden, the wife of Sir 
William ^Eden, and the mother of Mr. Anthony Eden, the 
present Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs; Lady Brooke, 
afterwards Countess of Warwick; Miss Violet Lindsay, later 
Mrs. Henry Manners, and in due course Lady Granby and 
Duchess of Rutland, the beauty and charm of whose daughters. 
Lady Anglesey, Lady Violet Benson and Lady Diana Cooper, is 
a true and just tribute to their mother, recalling the Latin words 
Filia pulchra^ mater pulchrior; and — ^last, but by nojneans least — 
Miss Dallas-Yorke, who is now my wife. 

I must certainly not omit Lady Curzon of Kedleston, the 
wife of the Viceroy of India, whose wonderful beauty made a 
lasting impression on everyone, European and native alike, who 
was present at the great Durbar held at Delhi in 1903. She 
was indeed a most beautiful woman, superbly dressed for the 
occasion; and I am sure that neither I nor anyone else 
will forget her appearance, when enthroned by the side 
of her husband at one of the evening ceremonies during the 

No less beautiful, though without the commanding presence 
of the others, were Miss Pamela Plowden, now Countess of 
Lytton, and Miss Gay Paget, now Countess of Plymouth. Of 
course there were many more; but those I have mentioned made 


the deepest impression on my mind. If I mentioned them all, 
their names would fill a whole book. I oflfer my sincere apologies 
for any omissions I may have made. 

In those days, a Court ball at Buckingham Palace was a really 
wonderful sight, with all these lovely women present, and 
of course many more, both married and single, most of them 
w^earmg magnificent jewels. It should be remembered, too, 
that in exceedingly few cases did their appearance owe anything 
to art, except that of their dressmaker and coiffeur — never, 
thank goodness, to the manicurist; for I think nothing is more 
hideous or spoiling to a well-shaped hand than red nails, which 
remind me of the gory fingers of a Scotch ghillie after he has 
gralloched a dead stag, or the unwashed hands of a butcher 
fresh from the slaughter-house. 

Of a younger generation, I must certainly mention Lady 
Beatrice Pole-Carew. She is the daughter of Lord and Lady 
Ormonde, her father being a strikingly handsome man, and 
her mother, who was the eldest daughter of the late Duke of 
Westminster, a remarkably beautiful woman. As I have already 
written, her husband, then Col. (afterwards General Sir R.) 
Pole-Carew was a brother-officer and very old friend of mine. 
When he married Lady Beatrice, I lent Welbeck to them for 
their honeymoon, and several people there still remember her 
radiant beauty and charm, and his cheery bonhomie. Lady 
Beatrice recently paid a visit to India, and walked two hundred 
miles from Darjeeling to Tibet, in order to see the wonderful 
rhododendrons in bloom. She has also travelled from the Cape 
to Cairo by motor car. Her elder son, Capt. Sir John Carew 
Pole, who changed his name on succeeding to an old baronetcy 
in Devonshire, is now serving with the Coldstream Guards. Her 
younger son Patrick is also in that splendid Regiment. 

Besides the ladies I have mentioned there were the so-called 
‘professional beauties’, Mrs. Langtry, Mrs. Cornwallis West, 
and the very pretty Mrs. Wheeler. Why they should have 
been called so I do not know, for they were all of good 
family and were of course received everywhere in society 



like any other ladies. The Society papers, however, chose to 
call them P. B.’s, either as what is now known as a ‘news- 
paper stunt’, or possibly because their photographs appeared 
in many of the shop windows, as was then the custom — ^though I 
quickly put a stop to it — with regard to photographs of my wife. 
I remember being in Hyde Park during the season of 1878 or 
1879, and to my surprise men and women stood on their 
chairs, as a small group of people approached. They did this 
in order to have a better view of Mrs. Langtry, the Jersey 
Lily; and well they were repaid, for she was one of the most 
beautiful women I have ever seen. She was the mother of Lady 
Malcolm of Poltalloch, who has inherited her beauty and 
charm, and has passed them on to her daughter Miss Mary 
Malcolm, now Lady Bartlett. 

The outstanding beauty on the stage at that time was, I 
think. Miss Mary Anderson whom I remember in Pygmalion. 
She married Sr. Antonio de Navarro, and I am glad that 
she still lives in her beautiful house at Broadway. Madame 
de Navarro has done me the honour to send me a lovely 
photograph of herself, with permission to insert it in my 

In later years, Miss Gladys Cooper reigned supreme; and as 
time passes she seems to lose none of her wonderful beauty and 
charm, Alas, she now spends much of her time in America; but 
her innumerable friends hope, I am sure, that she will soon re- 
turn to her native country, and not make America her perma- 
nent home. 

Mr. Alfred Montgomery was a very neat, smart, and good- 
looking man, and a perfect dandy. He was one of the Commis- 
sioners of Inland Revenue, and is reported to have said, ‘Having 
little or no income of my own, I live by collecting other people’s.’ 
One very wet day, he was seen picking his way carefully over a 
muddy crossing. I may say that, in those days, every crossing had 
its own sweeper, who was willing to help one across for a tip. 
Someone asked Mr. Montgomery, ‘Why don’t you turn up the 
ends of your trousers?’ and he replied in his lisping way, ‘I can’t 


possibly afford to do it, my dear fellow. If any of my numerous 
creditors saw me with my trousers turned up, he would tell the 
others that Mr. Alfred Montgomery must be more hard up than 
usual ; and then they would all send in their bills at once, and I 
should find myself in the bankruptcy court.’ Though well 
known for his caustic humour, he was a most charming old 
gentleman; and I remember meeting him as a fellow guest at 

The dandies of the Go’s and 70’s were succeeded by the 
mashers of more recent years. I should include among the dandies 
of my time such men as Lord Algernon Gordon-Lennox, Edly 
Chesterfield and Lord Alexander (Dandy) Paget, and, in their 
way, such sportsmen as Bay Middleton, Doggy Smith, and 
George Lambton. They were all men of good and manly figure 
which set off their well-fitting and perfectly chosen clothes. 

Mashers were of another type altogether. They were chiefly 
young men who frequented the Gaiety Theatre and other such 
resorts. The Duke of WelHngton said that the young dandies 
among his officers fought as weU as, or better than, any others; 
and I am sure that, when the opportunity arose, the mashers 
did equally well in the more frequent wars of later times. 

In the late 70’s, the sparkling musical plays at the Gaiety 
Theatre attracted a great number of ^^jeunesse doree (so called 
by the newspapers, which have always enjoyed coining nick- 
names, but by no one else), where no doubt they shed not a little 
of their gilt. They were also known as the ‘Crutch and Tooth- 
pick Brigade’, because it was the fashion to carry smart walking 
sticks with crutch handles, and to chew tooth-picks. They fre- 
quented the Gaiety for the sake, not only of the very pretty 
music, such as was to be heard in Little Don Caesar and Faust up to 
Date^ but also of the charm of that beautiful and most graceful 
dancer Kate Vaughan, the wit and vivacity of Nellie Farren, 
and the humour of Fred LesHe. To this day I look back upon 
Kate Vaughan as the most attractive dancer I have ever seen. 
She was, I believe, the first ballerina to dance in long skirts 
and these she managed with the greatest skill. Two ladies of my 




acquaintance took lessons from her. When asked how they were 
progressing, Kate replied, ‘One of them is all grace and no 
steps; and the other is all steps and no grace.’ She married 
Colonel the Hon. Fred Wellesley, a distinguished officer in the 
Coldstream Guards, of whom I shall make further mention in 
Chapter XI. 

I well remember the terrible snowstorm of January i88i, to 
which occasional reference is still made in the newspapers. I was 
in London at the time, and I attempted to reach King’s Cross 
Station in a hansom-cab, in the teeth of the storm. Opposite the 
Middlesex Hospital, the horse absolutely refused to continue, 
and the driver opened the trap-door in the roof of the cab, say- 
ing he could not face the storm any longer, as he was com- 
pletely frozen. As a matter of fact I myself was in little better 
case, though the glass screen was drawn. We turned with some 
difficulty, and then retraced our steps at a walk, because the 
snow was already drifting in the street. The next day, snow 
ploughs were used, the snow being pHed up like small walls by 
the roadside, and many of the pavements were for the moment 
quite impassable. I saw a four-wheeler catch its wheel in one of 
these snow-banks, and turn completely over. It was a rather un- 
pleasant experience altogether. The only people who seemed to 
enjoy it were the litde boys, who had a splendid time snow- 

In those days the London season commenced at the begin- 
ning of May and continued until the end of July. Nowadays the 
season seems to me to last all the year round, the reason no 
doubt being the closing of many of the large country houses, 
which compels their owners to live in London, now that they 
are unable to bear the expense of two homes. 

In my youth, and in fact almost up to the time of the War, 
even if one did not care much for dancing it was well worth 
while to go to balls, not only for the sake of the Society of the 
beautiful ladies, but also to see them valse with very skilfrd 
partners, some of them from Vienna, to the lovely music com- 
posed by the great Johann Strauss. One season, Charles Kinsky 


and other Austrians arranged for Strauss’s Band to come to 
London. At other times, the famous Bands conducted by Dres- 
cher, Cassano, and latterly GottHeb, were here. I believe, how- 
ever, that the leader of Gottlieb’s Band was an Englishman. Both 
Drescher’s and Gottlieb’s Bands had the honour of playing at the 
Court baUs at Buckingham Palace, and of course in all the great 
houses of London too. The soft tone of the vioHns and violon- 
cellos was extremely beautiful, and the musicians played with 
wonderful smoothness and precision. 

Now, alas, all this is changed and, in my opinion, changed 
very much for the worse: for, at the few balls I have attended 
since the War, I found couples of all ages, young, middle-aged 
and definitely old, solemnly performing what seemed to be flat- 
footed, negro antics, to thte discordant uproar — I will not call it 
music — of a braying brass band. The only advantage I could 
see, and that a very doubtful one, was that middle-aged and 
elderly couples, who had long ceased to dance, could again take 
the floor. This may have been good for their health, but it cer- 
tainly was not so for the dignity or beauty of their appearance. 
Heated youth is not a particularly beautiful spectacle; but how 
much worse is heated and frisky old age ! 

Of the many large balls I have attended in London, I think 
two stand out in my memory more clearly than any others. One 
of these was given in 1880 or 1881 by some of the bachelors of 
London, in an unfurnished house in Knightsbridge built by Sir 
Albert Grant, though I beHeve he never lived in it. The 
arrangements for the Ball were made by a committee under 
the chairmanship of the well-known Augustus Lumley, who 
afterwards succeeded his brother, Henry Savile, winner of the 
Derby with Cremome in 1872, in the ownership of Rufibrd. 
I was one of the bachelors who gave the ball, and wore what 
was then known as frock-dress — ^that is an evening coat with 
rather longer tails than usual, knee breeches and black silk 
stockings. I had the honour of dancing the opening quadrille 
with the Princess of Wales, whom I was also privileged to take 
in to supper; and I shall never forget her charm, her beauty, 


As the Empress Elizabeth Christiana, 1894 

and her kindness to me, then a shy and inexperienced young man 
of twenty-three. There was a small lake, or rather pond, in the 
garden, with boats' on it; and one over-eager young lady, who 

afterwards became the Countess of , missed her footing and 

went souse into the water, of course ruining her dress. She was 
rescued with the help of a boat-hook, which completed the 
wreck of her costume. The ball was a great success; and the 
Bachelors’ Club, in Hamilton Place, was the outcome of it. 

The other memorable ball was given by the Royal Horse 
Guards (Blues), as a house-warming for their new Barracks in 
Knightsbridge and Hyde Park. A dance floor was laid in the 
riding school, which was beautifully decorated and made a 
superb ballroom. Like the Bachelors’ ball, this also was attended 
by T.R.H. the Prince and Princess of Wales, and by nearly all 
the other members of the Royal Family who were in London at 
the time. 

My wife and I attended the famous fancy dress ball given by 
the Duke and Duchess of Devonshire in 1897, Devonshire 
House. The Prince and Princess of Wales were present, and it 
was indeed a most brilliant scene. The Prince appeared as the 
Grand Prior of the Order of St. John of Jerusalem, and the 
Princess as Queen Marguerite de Valois, while their host and 
hostess represented the Emperor Charles V, and Zenobia, 
Queen of Palmyra. I still remember a few of the many other 
striking representations; in particular, Millicent Sutherland as 
Maria Leczinska, her sister. Lady Westmorland, as Hebe, with 
an eagle on her shoulder. Speaker Peel as a Doge of Venice, 
Lady Maud Warrender as Mile, de Montpensier, and her 
sister, Lady Mar and Kellie, as Beatrice. Harry Stonor appeared 
with great success as Lohengrin; Arthur Strong, the librarian, 
was Voltaire, whom he naturally resembled; and Sir Charles 
(Tops) Hartopp represented Bonaparte. Lady Randolph 
Churchill was also a great success, but I have forgotten her 
costume. Blanchie Lennox was dressed as a French Marquise, 
with panniers so wide that she could only pass sideways through 
the doors. My wife and I represented George and Mary Villiers, 


Duke and Duchess of Buckingham, and we were the leaders of 
one of the quadrilles, in each of which the dancers wore costumes 
of the period. 

It was curious how shy and gauche most of the men ap- 
peared. Lord and Lady Cowper gave a dinner-party before the 
ball, at their beautifiil house in St. James’s Square, which we 
attended in our costumes; and I can still see Arthur Balfour, 
who arrived rather late, trying to creep along the waU behind 
everyone else. There had been no fancy dress ball held in 
London on anything like so large a scale, since a ball given at 
Marlborough House, several years before, by the Prince and 
Princess of Wales: so very few of the guests at Devonshire House 
had ever worn anything but their ordinary clothes, or the uni- 
forms of their various Regiments. 

I wore rather a Hght-coloured wig, and my moustache was en- 
larged with yellow cotton-wool, to match the wig. After supper, 
I committed the terrible anachronism of lighting a cigarette ; 
and I was prompdy repaid for my sin by my moustache 
catching fire. I therefore snatched it off, amid the jeers of 
my fnends, and threw it into a finger-glass. Winnie was 
terribly oppressed by the weight of her wig and costume; and 
we both determined that in future we would never, never dress 
up again, much preferring the comfort of our unromantic, 
everyday clothes. 

While a large ball was taking place at Londonderry House, the 
roof caught fire, and Lord and Lady Londonderry wished their 
guests to leave the house as quietly and quickly as possible. A 
very old friend of theirs and mine. Lord H. (known to his friends 
as Huby), was at supper at the time. The butler said to him. 
The house is on fire, my Lord, and His Lordship wishes every- 
one to leave at once; so I am afraid I must ask you to finish your 
supper.’ ‘Indeed!’ replied H. Ts the house really on fire?’ ‘Yes, 
my Lord. The firemen are here.* ‘Well,’ said H., ‘what the devil 
does that matter to me? Nobody could die more pleasantly <' hRn 
while eating a stuffed Bailey’s quail. Bring me another, please !’ 

Sir Walter Gilbey gave most excellent and agreeable bachelor 


(Sir J. J- Shannon, 1895) 

(J. S. Sargent, 1902) 

Delhi, 1903 


Above: Mrs. Langtry 
(Frank Miles) 

Lower left: Lady Malcolm of Poltalloch 
Lower right: Mary Malcolm (Lady Bartlett) 


Photograph by Messrs. JV. & D. Downey Photograph by Messrs. W. & D. Downey 


DANDIES OF 1840 AND 1890 


(J. Stevens; the dog by D’Orsay) 


Photograph by Messrs. W. & D. Downey Photograph by Messrs. W. & D. Downey 

dinners at his house in London, at which the Prince of Wales 
(afterwards King Edward VII) often honoured him with his 
presence. Sir Walter was kind enough to invite me on several of 
these occasions. At one of them H.R.H., after lighting a cigar, 
said to Sir Walter, ‘Don’t you smoke a cigar?’ ‘Yes, I do. 
Sir,’ was the reply; ‘I have every vice which I consider becomes 
a man ; and cigar-smoking is certainly one of them.’ 

Lady Salisbury gave splendid parties at the Foreign Office, 
when Lord Salisbury was Prime Minister and Secretary of 
State for Foreign Affairs, These parties were given on the 
Queen’s birthday, when it was my duty as Master of the Horse 
to give a banquet to various members of the Royal Household, 
at 3 Grosvenor Square, while my wife dined with the Duchess of 
Buccleuch, then Mistress of the Robes, at Montagu House in 

I remember one of these occasions particularly well. While 
my wife was dressing for dinner, I went into her room and 
threw myself into an arm-chair. Both she and her maid gave a 
scream — and so did I, for I had sat down upon the very sharp 
points of her diamond tiara. Naturally the tiara was broken to 
bits, while the lower part of my poor person resembled the 
diamond mines of Golconda, so full was it of precious stones ! 
But nobody, alas, seemed a bit sorry for me. After a certain 
amount of recrimination, I was forgiven ; and my wife went to the 
dinner party, afterwards joining me at Lady Salisbury’s reception. 

All the most beautiful women and leading men in London 
were present; and it was really a wonderful sight to watch 
them ascending the great staircase. Soon after I arrived, a lady 
said to me, ‘Do tell me, is it true that you sat on your wife’s 
tiara this evening?’ ‘Yes, I’m afraid I did.’ ‘Oh!’ said the 
lady: ‘was she wearing it at the time?’ I fear this was too 
much for me, and I replied, ‘You must promise not to tell any- 
body about it, but the fact is, she was! You see, we had a 
terrible quarrel while she was dressing; so I knocked her down, 
and sat on her head to prevent her from getting up again.’ 

A well-known doctor — I will not give his name ; he was one of 

L i6i 

the Royal physicians — attended my official dinner. I greeted 
him when he arrived, and in due course stood up to propose 
Her Majesty’s health, wearing the rather striking uniform in 
which I appeared on formal occasions. After dinner we went 
to the drawing-rooms, where cigars and drinks were provided. 
When my guests took their departure I stood at the head of 
the stairs to bid them farewell; and as Dr. X. passed me, I said, 
‘Good-night.’ ‘Good-night — ^good-night,’ he replied; ‘but may 
I ask who you are?’ Marcus Beresford was standing near by, 
and observed with a loud guffaw, ‘Why, the old devil’s drunk!’ 
Very soon the story was all over London; and when I next 
had the honour of meeting King Edward he expressed great 
amusement and asked whether it was true. I hope that it will 
not be assumed from this that my dinners were orgies. They 
were, in fact, very dignified and loyal assemblies; but such 
episodes as the one I have described were rather beyond my 

At one of these banquets. General Prince Edward of Saxe- 
Weimar, who had lately been appointed Colonel of one of the 
Life Guards Regiments (an appointment which carried with it 
the office of Gold Stick), came rather early. I therefore said, 
‘I’m afraid some of my guests haven’t arrived yet: so I hope 
you will sit down. Sir, till they come.’ ‘Sit down? Sit down? 
Certainly not,’ said Prince Edward. ‘I shall only sit down once, 
and that will be at dinner. I’m very proud of my appointment 
and my new uniform. I saw myself in the glass just now, and by 
God ! I thought I looked danrned handsome. Sit down? Certainly 
not ! I want everybody to see me.’ 

My old friend Algy Lennox served on Prince Edward’s staff 
for many years, and told many amusing stories about him. He 
was known to his contemporaries as ‘dear old Fuddlediboo’ or 
‘Fuddles’, because whenever he was at all excited he began 
whatever he had to say with something like ‘Fud-fud-fiid’. He 
had nicknames for everything, calling butter ‘grease’, a fishing- 
rod a ‘bug-pole’, and so on. 

I may say that Prince Edward was a very good soldier, and 


had fought most gallantly in the Crimea as an officer in the 
Grenadier Guards. He commanded the outposts at the battle of 
Inkerman, and found himself enveloped in thick fog. Being 
heavily attacked by the Russians, he sent word to the main 
body of the Army that the pressure on his detachment was con- 
tinually increasing; but for some time no reinforcements arrived, 
and he was ordered to remain where he was. ‘And, by God, I 
did stay where I was; and in no time I found myself in the 
middle of the whole Russian Army. But budge I didn’t, by 
God!’ The fog was at first too dense and the enemy at too close 
quarters for effective bayonet-fighting; but at last the courage, 
physical weight and strength of the Guardsmen and other 
British troops told, and the Russians were forced back with 
great slaughter. H.R.H. the Duke of Cambridge was also 
present at this battle, and much distinguished himself. 

I am often asked, ‘What were the Souls?’ and, ‘Did you know 
many of them?’ My answer has always been, ‘Of course I knew 
many of them very well indeed — everybody knew them’: for 
they were, for the most part, the usual individuals whom one 
constantly met in everyday life. They were a coterie of particu- 
larly clever and agreeable people, with many tastes in common, 
who rejoiced in one another’s sympathetic company and witty 
conversation. Beyond that, so far as I could see, they differed 
not at all, in either manners or appearance, from any other 
people of the same class. By way of amusing retort they nick- 
named the members of other sets the Bodies. Desiring, as was 
only natural, to enjoy ourselves to the full, my wife and I became 
what I may perhaps call season-ticket holders in both these 
groups. For my part, I saw little difference between them. Both 
Souls and Bodies were out to enjoy life as much as possible ; and 
I hope and believe they succeeded, especially as they seemed to 
adopt my favourite motto. Live, let live, and help to live. 

As a rule, the conversation of the Souls was both amusing and 
easy to follow; but now and again it rose a Httle above the heads 
of ordinary mortals, and on these occasions, I and many others 
reverted to our original status as Bodies. 



I n December, 1879, without my stepmother’s knowledge, it 
was suggested to the Prime Minister, Lord Beaconsfield, 
that Queen Victoria might be inclined to recognise her 
position by conferring a title upon her. Within a fortnight of my 
succession to the Dukedom Lord Beaconsfield invited me to 
visit him at Hughenden. 

I well remember how nervous I felt at the prospect ; but my 
stepmother, who always gave me good advice, urged me to 
accept the invitation, saying it would be only courteous to do 
so, and that she was sure I should regret it in after-life if I 
refused. I therefore replied that it would give me great pleasure 
to pay him a visit. He asked me to meet him at Paddington 
and to travel with him to High Wycombe, adding, ‘You will 
see Mr. Montagu Corry, my private secretary, whom I think 
you already know, on the platform, and he will direct you to 
the carriage in which I shall be sitting.’ 

I found Mr. Corry at Paddington. He took me to the carriage 
and said, ‘There is the Prime Minister.’ I remember that Lord 
Beaconsfield had on a black Inverness cape, and wore a ‘wide- 
awake’ hat, rather pulled down over his face. He held out a 
long, lean hand and said, ‘I am so glad to make your acquaint- 
ance — how do you do? I am afraid I cannot talk to you now, as 
I am an old man, not in the best of health, and it fatigues me 
to converse in the train. No doubt dear Monty will make up 
for that ; and I am sure you already know that he is very pleasant 
and agreeable, especially to young people.’ 

When the train arrived at High Wycombe station, two closed 
carriages were in waiting. Monty Corry then said to me, ‘You 



Photograph by Messrs. W. & D. Downey 

(Violet Manners, 1888) 

go with Lord Beaconsfield, and I will come in the other carriage.’ 
When the door was closed, I felt much as I did when I was up 
before Judy Durnford, the Lower Master at Eton. 

After arriving at Hughenden, Lord Beaconsfield, Monty 
Gorry and I dined together. I do not think Lord Beaconsfield 
talked much during dinner, but when it was over he said to me, 
‘And now, my young friend — I trust you will allow me to call you 
so, and that you will look upon me as your friend too — I should 
like to explain why I wished to make your acquaintance.’ 

‘Well,’ he continued, ‘I am a man of many faults, and many 
failings like everyone else, but perhaps I have one redeeming 
quality. I mean, that the feeling of gratitude is very strong 
within me ; and I believe I owe any success that may have been 
mine in my long life mainly to two people. One of these was of 
course my dear wife; and the other was your relative. Lord 
George Bentinck.^ When I was a young and struggling man. Lord 
George held forth the hand of friendship to me, and we became 
not only pohtical allies but very sincere friends. I had a great 
affection and admiration both for him and for his brother Henry, 
and so I shall be only too glad to be of some service to you. 
Now, I hope, you understand why I was anxious to make your 
acquaintance ; and I trust that I may be able to pay back a small 
part of the debt which I owe to the Bentinck family.’ 

I remained at Hughenden until the following Monday. A 
few days later my stepmother received this letter firom Colonel 
R. Loyd Lindsay, V.G., afterwards Lord Wantage:® 

^Lord George Bentinck, who was M.P. for King’s Lynn and had been private 
secretary to his uncle by marriage, G^eorge Canning, came prominently forward as 
the Leader of the Protectionist Party, when Sir Robert Peel, in 1845, expressed his 
intention to abolish the Corn Laws. Shortly after Lord George’s death in 1848, 
Disraeli became the Protectionist leader. 

^Lord Wantage began his career as an Ensign in the Scots Fusilier Guards. He car- 
ried the Queen’s Colour at the battle of the Alma, from which he escaped unhurt, 
though the Colour was shot to pieces and most of the Colour-party were killed. He 
also much distinguished himself at the battle of Inkerman. When the Victoria Cross 
was instituted, I believe two were assigned to the officers, and two to the men, of 
each battalion of the Foot Guards which had served in the campaign, and that Bob 
Lindsay was unanimously chosen by his brother-officers to receive one of them. 

After the War, he married Miss Loyd, the only child of the very wealthy banker 


2, Carlton Gardens. 

Dear Mrs. Bentingk, ^^ 79 - 

‘I return you Mr. Austen Leigh’s^ letter and the Memo which 
refers to the conduct of your boys at Eton. I am sure you have 
cause to be proud of them all and of none more so than of your 
eldest son the Duke. He made a most favourable impression on 
the Prime Minister and conducted the business, which took him 
down to Hughenden, with great discretion. 

^Qa marche — as the French say. But muffled drums — ^if you 
please — as the Duke will tell you. 

‘This year’s Christmas and the New Year will be a busy time 
for you, and I wish you and yours very many happy returns of 

the same. Sincerely yours, 

R. Loyd Lindsay.’ 

To this I add two short notes, upon the same subject, which I 
received from Lord Beaconsfield. 

Downing Street, 

My Dear Duke, Mar. ^th 1880. 

‘If you are passing through town, I should be glad to see you. 

Yours sincerely, 


Downing Street 

My Dear Duke, Mar. 12th 1880. 

‘Send to me Mrs. Bentinck’s Xtian names at length. 



Lord Overstone. He afterwards sat in Parliament as Member for Berkshire, and 
was created Lord Wantage and Lord-Lieutenant of the county. He was known to 
his intimate friends as Bob Lindsay throughout his life, and was a cousin of Colonel 
Charles Lindsay, Violet Rutland’s father. 

As a young man he was extremely handsome, and I heard him described as 
being very like a Viking. He was so full of fight that, when passing through Paris 
on his way to the Crimea, he insisted upon knocking some Frenchmen down, in 
order to get his hand in, and narrowly escaped being put into gaol. 

^Mr. E. C. Austen Leigh, the famous Eton master. 


Early in the summer — after he had ceased to be Prime Minis- 
ter, for his Government had fallen in March — I received an- 
other invitation to be his guest at Hughenden: 

71, South Audley Street, 
June 18 1880. 

My Dear Duke, 

‘I was in hopes to have seen you here. Lord and Lady Salis- 
bury dine with me at Hughenden on Tuesday next. I should be 
much pleased if you could meet them. Rowton, who dines with 
me tomorrow, will tell you all about comings and goings. 

Yours sincerely, 


This time I accepted gladly, having no longer the feeling of a 
naughty schoolboy to overcome, and now really looking for- 
ward to meeting him as a friend. I found a small party at 
Hughenden, including Lord and Lady Sahsbury, Lord and 
Lady Bradford and one of their daughters (now Lady Mabel 
Kenyon-Slaney), Lord Rosslyn, Mr. Bernal Osborne, and of 
course Monty Corry, who had lately^ been created Lord Rowton. 

While I was at Hughenden, Lord Beaconsfield very kindly 
gave me a copy of his book, Lord George Bentinck : a political bio- 
graphy, in which he wrote, ‘The Duke of Portland from his 
friend Beaconsfield June, ’80.’ It is still one of my most cherished 
possessions. When the Hbrary of Major Goningsby Disraeli was 
dispersed in February 1937, I was so fortunate as to obtain an- 
other copy of the same work, bearing the following note in 
Major Disraeli’s handwriting: 

Hughenden Manor, 

High Wycombe. 

‘The First Edition of Lord George Bentinck in which are Mr. 
Disraeli’s revisions in autograph for the Third Edition. 

‘With the autograph Preface for the Eighth Edition — ^pub- 
lished in 1872 — ^written when staying with Lord Brownlow on 
the Ashridge note paper. 

. ^May6th, 1880. 


‘Bound up by Sir Philip Rose, Bart., of Rayners — his friend 
and executor — and bought by me at the sale of the effects of Sir 
Philip Frederick Rose, 2nd Bart., in January 1920. 

C. Disraeli.’ 

Feb. 1920. 

The Preface to which this note refers is word for word as it was 
published in the eighth and, no doubt, every later edition of the 

On my departure from Hughenden, Lord Beaconsfield said, 
‘I am so glad to have seen you again; and now that I have held 
forth the hand of hospitality to you, it would give me great 
pleasure if you would do the same to me, for I am very 
anxious to visit Welbeck, the home of my dear friend George 
Bentinck, where he died so suddenly, causing so much grief, 
not only to me but to the whole of the country as well.’ 

In due course I invited him to Welbeck for Easter week, and 
he wrote these letters of acceptance to my stepmother, then 
created Lady Bolsover, and to me: 

19, CuRzoN Street, W. 

Feb. 9 1881 

My Dear Duke, 

‘I fear I am almost too old to be a guest, but a visit to Welbeck 
would indeed, as you rightly suppose, be most interesting to me, 
and I look forward to it with pleasure. 

‘With my kind compUments to Lady Bolsover, whom I hope 
soon to see, beheye me. 

Ever sincerely yours, 


19, CuRZON Street, W. 

Mar. 14 1881. 

My Dear Lady, 

‘I propose to have the great pleasure of paying a visit to 
yourself, and my good friend the Duke on Wednesday the 20th 
April, and remaining, with your permission, at Welbeck until 
the following Saturday. 


‘No good news from Algiers. 

‘The Russian catastrophe,^ — awful. 

Yours sincerely, 


We were all looking forward with great interest to his visit; 
but unfortunately he fell ill at his house in Curzon Street, and a 
fortnight before he was due to arrive at Welbeck, Lord Bar- 
rington, one of his private secretaries, wrote as follows to my 
stepmother : 

19, Hertford Street, 
April 7 1881. 

Dear Lady Bolsover, 

‘Lord Beaconsfield sent for me late this evening, and re- 
quested that I shd. inform you and the Duke of Portland that it 
wd. not be in his power to fulfil his engagement to pay you a 
visit at Welbeck during the coming Easter week. 

‘Lord Beaconsfield was quite calm and collected, but was 
certainly weaker than on Tuesday last, when he called me to 
his bedside. There is some hope that this weakness may be attri- 
buted to the very bad night which Ld. Beaconsfield had passed, 
and that he may yet rally, but I cannot say that I am sanguine. 

‘It is very kind of the Duke of Portland to propose that Lady 
Barrington and I shd. pay you a visit during Easter week, but 
perhaps, under the circumstances, you will be good enough to 
excuse me. Should my dear Chief’s life be prolonged I shall be 
very much occupied, and shd. it please God that his end shd. be 
near, I shd. not have much heart for society. 

Beheve me, dear Lady Bolsover, 

Yours sincerely, 


On April 19th, Lord Rowton telegraphed to me: 

‘Probably you have heard by this time that he died at half 
past four this morning.’ 

^On March 13th, 1881, the Tsar Alexander II was seriotisly wounded by a 
bomb, and died shortly afterwards. 


So, to our lasting sorrow and disappointment, we never had 
the pleasure and privilege to receive Lord Beaconsfield as our 
guest at Welbeck. Instead, I visited Hughenden once more on 
April 26th, for his funeral.^ 

My impression of Lord Beaconsfield — though it should be 
remembered that I was a very young man when I saw him — is 
that he was by no means what is commonly termed agreeable 
company, for during my visits he rarely joined in the general 
conversation, though his manner was particularly kind and 
courteous. Of course he was then an old and feeble man, and 
in almost continual discomfort from gout and asthma. 

Lord Beaconsfield’s debt to the Bentinck family was larger 
than may appear from my narrative, as may be gathered from 
the following story told me by Mr. Henry Chaplin, afterwards 
Viscount Chaplin, who knew Lord Beaconsfield and Lord 
Henry Bentinck particularly well. He said that during the 
Debates on the Free Trade policy introduced by Sir Robert 
Peel, and carried into effect in 1846, Lord George, the leader 
of the Protectionist Party, came home to Welbeck. As he ap- 
peared to be in low spirits, his brother Henry Bentinck, who 
was then M.P. for N. Notts., said to him, ‘What is the matter, 
George? You seem to be out of sorts.’ George replied, ‘It is 
nothing much. I am only annoyed at the stupidity and 
narrow-mindedness of our friends in the House of Commons, 
for I have found an ideal leader for the Protectionist Party in 
Benjamin DisraeH; but they will not listen to my advice, be- 
cause they say he is not a landed proprietor.’ ‘What of that, 
George?’ said Henry, ‘let us make him one!’ George repHed, 
‘Don’t talk nonsense. How can we make him a landed pro- 
prietor?’ Henry answered, ‘You and I may not be able to, 
but father could. I have been with him this morning and he 
seems to be in a very good humour, so let’s go and talk to him 
about it.’ 

. . ‘It was fitting that the Duke of Portland, head of the Bentincks, should come 
to show respect for the coadjutor and biographer of his cousin Lord George.’ Mony- 
penny and Buckle, Life of Disraeli (ed. 1 9 1 o-i 920) , vol. vi, p. 62 1 . 


Evidently their mission met with success, for soon afterwards 
the Duke advanced a sufficient sum of money to buy Hughen- 
den; so after this DisraeK had the necessary qualification for 
leadership, as a landed proprietor. 

I believe the Duke charged only a very low rate of interest, 
which was regularly paid until three years after his death in 
1854. His son, the late Duke, who continued to be a supporter of 
Sir Robert Peel when Lord George and Lord Henry became 
Protectionists, then called in the money, and Disraeli, at great 
inconvenience to himself, paid the debt. After the lapse of so 
many years, I think there can be no harm in printing the follow- 
ing letters, which passed between Disraeli and the Duke at this 

Confidential Grosvenor Gate 

June 22 1857 

‘I cannot resist the conviction that it wd be more than un- 
gracious on my part were I to permit the confidential relations 
wh: have so strangely subsisted between us to terminate in 

‘I am aware of the personal interposition, wh: Your Grace 
made on my behalf, at the time of the catastrophe. It must have 
cost you great pain & solicitude, & it merited, & obtained, my 

‘I am not insensible to the forbearance, wh: I have experi- 
enced from Your Grace during the two last years. 

‘A course of kind and considerate conduct, wh: has ranged 
over so long a period, whatever the motive, ought not to be dis- 
regarded by the recipient, and I wish to offer you my thanks, in 
terms, not conventional, but cordial. 

‘Having relieved myself so far, I would hope, that Yr Grace 
may not be offended, if I express myself with equal frankness, on 
another point. 

‘It has been impossible for me, from observations that have 
occasionally dropped since the death of the late Duke, to resist 
the inference that Yr Grace was of opinion that I had taken ad- 


vantage adroitly of circumstances, and dexterously installed 
myself in a profitable position. 

‘The time has come when I can touch upon this matter 
witht embarrassment. 

‘And in the first place: I neither suggested nor sanctioned, the 
original scheme^ & if it be thought, that I yielded with too great 
facility, it may be remembered, that I was acting under the in- 
fluence of a person, whose position, and whose character, were 
alike commanding.® 

‘With respect to the subsequent results, the accounts of the 
estate have been regularly kept, & it appears by the balance, 
wh: has been recently struck, that the pecuniary loss of the pro- 
ject to myself has been little short often thousand pounds. 

‘I feel assured, that Yr Grace will bear these unreserved re- 
marks with a manly spirit. There is nothing so painful as to be 
misjudged by those from whom, whatever may have been the 
cause, you have received favors, & whom you respect. 

I have the honor to remain. 

Your Grace’s obliged and faithful Servt 

B. Disraeli.’ 


Harg^ House 
June 23 57. 

‘I hasten to acknowledge the receipt this afternoon of your 
letter of yesterdays date and to express my very great regret that 
you should have felt it in the sHghtest degree called for or 

‘I can assure you nothing has ever fallen from me to justify 
the impression you refer to firom “occasional observations”. 

‘It was very unfortunate that I should have had to take any 
part whatever in what has passed but unavoidable and I could 
but endeavour to reconcile as well as might be contending 

iThis must refer to the purchase of Hughenden. 
®No doubt Lord George Bentinck. 


‘The whole subject has been a most embarrassing one and I 
felt from the first it was impossible I could ever enter on it in 
detail personally with yourself and you will forgive me for 
continuing to abstain from doing so. I much regret the pecuni- 
ary loss you mention having sustained but trust it has been more 
than counter-balanced in your mind by the high position you 
have attained 

I have the honour to be 


Your very obedient Servant 

Scott Portland.’^ 

Lord Beaconsfield certainly bore no malice on this account, 
as the following letter, written twenty years later — ^which I am 
very glad to publish — amply shows: 

lo. Downing Street, 

July<^\ 1877 

My Lord Duke, 

‘The Queen has lately, on more than one occasion, expressed 
to me Her Majesty’s admiration of the public spirit of Your 
Grace, characterised, as it is, not only by a large generosity^ 
but by an original and independent tone on many great occa- 
sions, and a freedom from conventional commonplace, which 
the Queen appreciates and approves. 

‘The Queen was pleased to express Her Majesty’s regret that 
it seemed not in Her power to signify Her Majesty’s sense of 
these rare qualities in one of the most exalted of Her subjects, 
and remarked to me on Sunday, that it would please Her 

^The 4th Duke of Portland assumed the name Scott by royal licence, after his 
marriage in 1795 to Henrietta, eldest daughter and coheiress of General John Scott 
of Balcomie. Their son, the late Duke, continued to use the name; but I never 
assumed it, as there is no Scott property in my possession, or at all events extremely 

^As an instance of this I may say that, during the Crimean War, the Duke sent a 
large consignment — ^it was said a whole shipload — to the Troops, including a num- 
ber of jars of home-brewed ale, for which Welbeck was then famous. When I 
succeeded, it was still made, being extremely dark in coloxir, and very strong. The 
brew-house was soon afterwards discontinued. 


Majesty, if Your Grace would accept the Garter. The Queen 
added, that there being no vacancy in the Order at present, and 
it being thus conferred by Her Majesty’s prerogative, it might 
be considered as peculiarly, and personally, the act of the 
Sovereign, and, in no degree, that of Her advisers. 

T have, therefore, to assure Your Grace, that I do not make 
this communication as a Minister, but as a private individual, 
honoured, in this respect, by Her Majesty’s confidence. But 
tho’ no political tie or sentiment are admitted into this transac- 
tion, I hope I may presume to add, that I feel favoured by 
being the instrument of conveying so distinguished a mark of 
the esteem of our Sovereign to the head of a great House for 
which I must ever feel respect and affection. 

I have the honour to remain. 

Your Grace’s faithful servant, 


The Duke, however, asked leave to decline the offer, as he 
said he did not appear in Society or take any part in public 
affairs, and had not done so for many years past. 

When I was appointed Master of the Horse in 1886, Queen 
Victoria said to me, T am glad that you have become a mem- 
ber of my Household, because I have always heard a good re- 
port of you; and Lord Beaconsfield said to me, “If ever Your 
Majesty has an opportunity of recognising the young Duke 
of Portland, I hope Your Majesty will do so. I have always 
been much attached to the family of which he is now the head.” ’ 

The first of many notable political gatherings held at Welbeck 
took place at the end of July, 1884, in support of the candida- 
ture of the Hon. George Gurzon, afterwards Lord Curzon of 
Kedleston, for one of the Divisions of Derbyshire. A large meet- 
ing was held in the Riding School. Sir Stafford Northcote, the 
leader of the Conservative Party, then a guest of Mr. Augustus 
Lumley at Rufford, was the chief speaker; and Lady North- 
cote, Lady Albertha Edgcumbe, Lord Rosslyn, the Hon. E. 
Boscawen (afterwards Lord Falmouth) and other guests 



on the platform. I shall never forget the wonderful speech 
George Curzon dehvered, nor the deep impression it created 
on everybody present. I acted as Chairman; and I well re- 
member my nervousness, it being the first time that I had ever 
done so. 

When the so-called Fourth Party was formed by Lord 
Randolph Churchill, with Sir Henry Drummond Wolff, Sir 
John Gorst, and Arthur Balfour, Churchill sometimes gave 
political luncheons at his house in Connaught Place. I was pre- 
sent at one of these luncheons, either in 1884 or early in 1885. 
After a most excellent meal one of them said, ‘Let’s get up a 
good G.O.M. bait. We haven’t had one for some time.’ They 
all agreed that it should be done forthwith, and proceeded to 
discuss the subject. Gorst (I think) said, ‘It has been in my 
mind for some time, for I’ve discovered that on a certain day 
not very long ago Mr. Gladstone said so-and-so, but now he says 
exactly the opposite.’ ‘Bravo!’ said everybody: ‘Now, how shall 
we set about it?’ ‘Well,’ Randolph said, ‘I think you, Gorst, 
might ask such-and-such a question, leading up to Mr. G.’s 
statement. Mr. Gladstone is bound to give the following reply. 
Drummond Wolff will then rise, and ask how the Prime 
Minister reconciles this with what he said in his other speech. 
Then we shall have him in a cleft stick. He can’t possibly deny 
that he said it, because we can produce it in black and white.’ 
Although they were continually attacking the G.O.M., as 1 ^. 
Gladstone was called, he was always extremely courteous to 
them, as he was in fact to everybody, particularly young men of 
marked ability. I must say that Arthur Balfour did not appear to 
be very keen about it ; his attitude seemed to be that of amused 
tolerance. At the time of this luncheon Randolph and his friends 
were organising the Primrose League, and I have little doubt 
that I was invited because they were hoping for a good subscrip- 
tion — ^which they received I So I became a Knight Harbinger of 
the Primrose League, though to this day I have no notion what 
that means, except that I received an illuminated parchment 


When Randolph was at the height of his political career, he 
addressed an important meeting at Derby, passing the follow- 
ing night as the guest of my old friend Mr. R. W. Ghandos-Pole 
at Radbourne. Next morning he asked very eagerly, ‘What time 
do the newspapers come?’ wishing, no doubt, to see the leading 
articles in the "Times and other London journals. ‘Newspapers?’ 
replied Ghandy: ‘let me see — to-day is Tuesday — ^well, the 
Derby Mercury comes on Thursday afternoon.’ 

One day Ghandy and his brother John were going by train 
on their way to hunt. They noticed that the newspaper-placards 
were black-edged, so Ghandy said, ‘Look, John: the papers 
are all in mourning. Let’s buy one. Perhaps old Gladstone’s 

I met Mr. Gladstone only once, at a dinner party ; and I re- 
member how incessantly he talked, while we all sat silent and 
listened with interest and respect, not to say awe. His nephew 
John Gladstone, his brother’s eldest son, was my brother- 
officer in the Goldstream Guards, and each year he invited 
some of his friends to Fasque and Glen Dye, his father’s estates 
in Forfar — I beg pardon: I believe it is now officially known 
as Angus — ^where there were excellent grouse-shooting and 
deer-stalking. The G.O.M. was often there as the guest of his 
brother, who, I may say, was a lifelong Gonservative, and 
made himself very pleasant and agreeable to the younger men, 
ta]|dng to them upon any subject which he thought would inter- 
est them, and showing most unexpected knowledge of hunting, 
shooting and other sports. 

At one period of the ever-present Irish troubles Mr. Glad- 
stone, then Prime Minister, was advised to consult Lord 
Gloncurry, who was really a great authority, as to the state of 
that country. His secretary, however, made a mistake and in- 
vited, not Lord Gloncurry, but Lord Glonmell’^ a cheery 
Irishman whom I knew well, to call on him. Glonmell was much 
flattered by this, and kept the appointment. When he was 

^Lord Glonmell was nicknamed Early, because he was Lord Earlsfort before he 


shown in, Mr. Gladstone seemed a little surprised but said, 
‘Thank you very much indeed for coming to see me; I am 
anxious to consult you about the present state of Ireland.’ 
He then, as was his custom, proceeded to give his own views 
at great length, and ended by saying, ‘And now, my dear 
Lord, I should be deeply grateful for your opinion on this most 
difficult subject.’ Clonmell, with his well-known lisp, repHed, 
‘Well, if you want to know my view of the Irish thituation, I 
think it’th bloody, Mr. Gladthtone — thimply bloody^!’ ‘Thank 
you for your very concise opinion,’ replied Mr. Gladstone; ‘I 
assure you you have thrown much hght on the subject, and I am 
most grateful to you for calling on me.’ I give this as an instance 
of Mr. Gladstone’s unfaiHng courtesy, kindness and tact — ^not 
of the wisdom and knowledge displayed by GlonmeU! 

Tommy Scott, Clonmell’s brother, engaged a hansom-cab 
in London. He sat in it without saying a word ; and when the 
driver opened the trap-door and asked where he wanted to go, 
Tommy said, ‘Don’t you be so damned inquisitive!’ I should 
explain that in DubHn, when well-known people jumped on to 
the cars and gave no directions, they were driven straight to the 
Kildare Street Club: so I suppose Tommy Scott had forgotten 
for once that he was in London, and not in Dublin. 

Shortly before my marriage. Lord Salisbury was good enough 
to offer me the Lord-Lieutenancy of Ireland, in the following 
exceedingly kind letter: 

Private April 17 89 

My Dear Portland, 

‘As you may have seen, Londonderry vacates the Lord 
Lieutenancy this year. Are you disposed to imitate one of your 
ancestors (or two?) and go to Ireland as his successor? Your 
residence would not be necessary before the late autumn. 

‘The Irish are pleased to have a man of great position at their 
head: and you would find Balfour an easy man to work with. 
The only drawback to the position is that it is expensive — ^but 
that matters less to you than to many people. A Vice Queen is 
M 177 

essential: but I hope that you will have taken out your qualifi- 
cation in that respect before November. 

Believe me, 

Yours very truly, 


Though I felt extremely honoured by the suggestion, I did 
not see my way to accept it. The post was given to Lord 
Zetland, who was both popular and successful during his term 
of office, the Irish appreciating him as a statesman and good 
sportsman, and his wife as a most charming woman. 

In 1889 I was appointed President of the National Union of 
Conservative Associations, which, in the autumn following, orga- 
nised a large meeting in Nottingham, to hear Lord Salisbury, 
the then Prime Minister. A vast building was erected and one 
of the largest poHtical meetings ever held in Nottingham was 
the result. Lord Salisbury delivered a splendid speech and 
so far as I remember the meeting was entirely successful. One 
amusing episode occurred, however, when my friend and neigh- 
bour Lord Manvers rose to propose a vote of thanks. He was an 
exceedingly slow and rather grandiloquent speaker, and after he 
had been on his legs for about a minute someone shouted from 
the back of the hall, ‘Good old Manvers!’ There were roars of 
laughter, and I am sure everybody agreed that this was an ex- 
cellent description of the worthy old gentleman. Among others 
present at the meeting were the Rt. Hon. James Lowther, 
Mr. William Beckett, Lady Salisbury, the Rt. Hon. George 
Wyndham, Lord Scarbrough, the Earl of Granbrook, Lord 
Rowton, Mr. Charles Stuart- Wortley (afterwards Lord Stuart 
of Wortley; he married a daughter of Sir J, E. Millais), Lord 
and Lady Brownlow, Mr. (afterwards Sir) Schomberg McDon- 
nell, and Lord and Lady Granby. 

During the Home Rule controversy I took the chair at a 
large meeting at Nottingham. Lord James of Hereford, who, in 
conjunction with Lord Hartington, Joseph Chamberlain, John 
Bright and others, had become a Liberal Unionist, was the 


\ v '^i 


chief speaker. He was to be supported by an eloquent gentleman 
from Ireland, of course in opposition to the Home Rule scheme. 
The eloquent Irishman had not arrived when the meeting be- 
gan, but after Lord James had spoken for about five minutes 
someone whispered to me, ‘The Irishman is here, but I think 
it very inadvisable that he should be allowed on the platform in 
his present state.’ I whispered in reply, ‘Take him to an hotel, 
give him another whisky and soda, put him to bed, lock the 
door, and tell the servants not to allow him out under any cir- 
cumstances.’ After a while the man came back and said, ‘It’s 
all right; he’s in bed, and is our captive.’ So the meeting went 
off very well. I really do not know what would have happened, 
or what would have been the effect on the cause, if the gentle- 
man had appeared on the platform. To such depths, and to such 
necessary devices, do politics reduce their followers ! 

My old friend Sir Frederick Milner, for many years M.P. for 
Bassetlaw, the district around Welbeck, had formerly been 
member for York. During the electoral campaign there his 
meetings were often interrupted by a Radical grocer, whom 
Fred and his friends nicknamed ‘Treacle Tommy’. Treacle 
Tommy retaliated by calling Milner ‘Frothy Fred’. In 1880, at 
a meeting in Worksop at which I was in the chair, an individual 
handed up a written question — ^fbr Milner was very deaf 
asking, ‘Is it true, Sir Frederick, that you were known in York 
as Frothy Fred?’ Milner, without a moment’s hesitation replied, 
‘Yes, and a very good name it was too, because I was successful: 
so Froth went to the top, and Treacle Tommy and his friends 
went to the bottom.’ 

Fred was extremely fond of writing letters on political sub- 
jects to the Times and other leading newspapers. He was weU. 
aware that if he sent a letter in his own name to the Times, it 
would receive Httle attention; but if he could enclose with it 
even two words of acknowledgment from Mr. Gladstone, who 
was then Prime Minister, he knew that his letter would be given 
a prominent place. He also knew that if Mirs. Gladstone was at 
home she would certainly intercept any note he might send to 


her husband, whom she guarded from every needless trouble. 
Mr. Gladstone, however, often went to Brighton or some other 
seaside place during the parliamentary vacations. Fred noticed 
that Mrs. Gladstone generally left London a week or so before 
her husband, in order (as Fred expressed it) to ‘warm the family 
nest’. So, when the time came, he carefully scanned the news- 
papers, and directly he saw that Mrs. Gladstone had left London, 
he wrote a letter on some political subject, and sent it by his 
servant to be delivered into Mr. Gladstone’s own hands. The 
unsuspecting G.O.M. invariably fell into the trap and sent a 
most courteous reply, saying he would give careful considera- 
tion to whatever question the letter raised. This was all Fred 
wanted. Next morning his letter appeared in a prominent 
place in all the papers, under headlines such as ‘Interesting 
correspondence between Sir Frederick Milner and the Prime 
^Minister’. However, when Lord Rosebery became Prime 
Minister — I may say that he was Fred’s intimate friend at 
Oxford, having been ‘up’ at the House with him — ^Fred tried 
the same tactics once too often; for he wrote a letter, and sent it 
to Rosebery with a covering note in which he said, ‘My dear R., 
I intend to publish this letter and your reply in the daily press. 
Yours, F.’ But, alas for Fred Milner, the reply was sharp, curt 
and to the point. It was, ‘My dear F., Go to heU. Yours, Ry.’ 
Needless to say, this was the end of Fred’s journalistic success 
at Rosebery’s expense ! 

As is only too well known, at all events to a good many 
people, the death duties were introduced in 1893 ^7 William 
Vernon Harcourt, as Chancellor of the Exchequer in Mr. Glad- 
stone’s last Government. I believe the details of the measure 
were worked out by Mr. Alfred (afterwards Lord) Milner, 
who was then at the head of the Inland Revenue Department. 
They were strongly opposed in the House of Commons by the 
Conservative Party, as it was foreseen that, sooner or later, they 
would cause the ruin of the landed proprietors and do great 
harm to a vast number of other interests in the country. 
Shortly after the Bill was passed, I met a prominent Cabinet 


Minister, himself a very large landed proprietor, at a Saturday 
to Monday party. He admitted that the new duties would be a 
serious blow to all property owners, especially those who drew 
their income from landed estates. When asked why he had not 
opposed the measure, he replied that it would have been quite 
useless, as his colleagues were determined to pass it. Someone 
remarked that, when a Conservative Government came into 
power again, the measure might possibly be repealed. ‘Never,’ 
repHed the Cabinet Minister. ‘You need have no hope of that. 
No Chancellor of the Exchequer, to whatever party he may 
belong, has ever, in my long experience of public affairs, given 
up an easy means of raising revenue, especially when it affects 
only a small minority of the electorate, and can be applied with 
hardly any loss of votes.’ How true was his opinion, and what 
disastrous results have followed! It is evident that the death 
duties have ruined landed estates, and are fast ruining the 
agricultural interests in the country too. They seem to me to 
be bad finance as well: for, instead of having been used to 
create (as they would have done) a stupendous fund, by this 
time paying a huge interest, which could have been used for 
all sorts of national purposes, they have been and are still treated 
as annual revenue. 

When Lord Salisbury was forming his government after the 
return to power of the Conservative Party in 1895, he appointed 
Mr. Walter Long as President of the Board of Agriculture. On 
the evening before Parliament assembled. Lady Salisbury, as 
usual, gave a large party in Arlington Street; and Walter Long 
took this opportunity of thanking Lord Salisbury for the honour 
he had paid him and for his kindness in having ^ven him the 
appointment. When Long went away. Lord Salisbury said to 
his wife, ‘What a lucky thing it is that I appointed Mr. Long! — 
It will be so pleasant to see his charming, healthy yoimg face 
whenever we have a Cabinet meeting.’ It is well known that Mr. 
Long was a great success as Minister of Agriculture, as he was in 
every office he held until his death. 

During Lord Salisbury’s administration, the leader of the 


opposition in the House of Lords made a rather pompous speech 
one day in February, saying he desired to draw the attention of 
the Prime Minister to an announcement made in the official 
organ of the Government, that an event of great importance to 
the Empire would occur during the following October. Could 
the Prime Minister throw any Hght on the matter? Lord Salis- 
bury slowly rose, and replied that, in the first place, he strongly 
denied that there was any official organ of the Government’. 
Perhaps, however, the noble Lord referred to the He was 

not in a position to throw any light on the matter at the moment ; 
but if the noble Lord would repeat his question later, he would 
do his best to answer it fully. 

In due course the noble Lord asked the question again. Lord 
SaHsbury replied that he had given the matter his serious con- 
sideration, and had made enquiry at the Foreign Office, the 
Colonial Office, and in every other Department which might be 
concerned. He regretted that he could obtain no information 
from them. ‘But’, he continued, ‘when the usual sources of in- 
formation had failed, a happy thought struck one of my secre- 
taries — the youngest and brightest among them all. He pro- 
posed that I should consult Old Moore’s Almanack. I instructed 
him to procure a copy ; but, after a most diligent search by my 
secretaries and myself, we could find no prophecy of any im- 
portant occurrence during next October, except a sKght in- 
crease in the number of shooting stars. I thereupon consulted 
the Astronomer Royal, who expressed the opinion that this was 
unlikely to have any more grave effect upon the British Empire 
than upon any other part of the globe. If, in the meantime, any 
further information should become available, I wiU at once 
communicate it to the noble Lord.’ At this there was much 

Lord and Lady SaHsbury were kind enough to invite my wife 
and myself to be their guests at Hatfield on several occasions. 
We met the German Emperor there and, on another visit. 
Lord Kitchener of Ediartoum. I have a very clear recollection 
of this visit because, during dinner, Lord SaHsbury seemed to 


itO,Aiti.iiieToii Strict 


(Violet Granby, 1899) 

“My dear Portland, 

The Queen has given me permission to ask you whether you will accept 
the Garter vacated by the death oF the Duke oF\Yestminster?* 

Above: 7th DUKE OF RUTLAND, K.G. 


By permission of the National Portrait Gallery 

discuss important political events with Lord Kitchener with 
surprising openness and candour. When Lord Sahsbury went to 
bed, his private secretary, Sir Schomberg McDonnell, said, 
‘Lord Salisbury has asked me to tell you all that he resigned his 
office as Prime Minister this afternoon. He wanted you to 
hear the news from himself, before you see it announced in to- 
morrow’s newspapers. No doubt you noticed how open he was 
with Lord Kitchener; and now you understand the reason.’ 
Everyone present was greatly touched by Lord Salisbury’s 
kindly consideration, though exceedingly sorry to learn of his 
resignation from office. Mr. Balfour then became Prime Minister. 

The late Lord Chaplin was at one time a great advocate of 
bimetallism. I took the chair for him at a meeting in Notting- 
ham, when he gave an address on this somewhat obscure and 
difficult subject. There were not more than forty or fifty people 
present; and Harry GhapHn made an enormously long speech 
from notes written on shps of blue paper, each of which, as he 
finished with it, he dropped into his high hat, which was placed 
on the table in front of him. This continued for nearly two 
hours, by which time about half the audience had disappeared, 
while most of the others seemed to be asleep. 

At the end of his speech, Harry invited his hearers to ask 
questions on any points they had failed to understand. This 
was received in silence ; so, wishing to bring the proceedings to a 
close, I repeated the invitation. At last an old gentleman stood 
up, rubbing his eyes, and said, ‘Would His Lordship mind tell- 
ing us what it is all about?’ Poor Harry looked a good deal taken 
aback, and said, ‘Evidently I have failed to make myself clear ; 
but I hardly know what to do, unless you would like me to 
repeat the whole of my speech over again.’ At this I intervened 
with a loud ‘No!’ and brought the meeting to a hasty close, 
punctuated with cheers. 

In 1904, soon after Joseph Chamberlain launched his Tariff 
Reform scheme, he asked me to allow a meeting to be held 
at Welbeck, in order that he might explain the scheme to a 
large number of farmers and others interested in agriculture 


in the Midland Counties. I agreed to his request, but stipulated 
that he should send some experienced person to help with the 
organisation of the meeting. ‘Certainly,’ said Mx. Chamberlain, 
‘I will send you the finest hustler I know’ ; and in due course Mr. 
Arthur Pearson^ appeared on the scene. He hustled to such good 
purpose that a vast number of agriculturists and others, at least 
ten thousand, attended a meeting in the riding school on 
August 4th. Among those on the platform were Mr. Henry 
ChapHn, Sir George Goldie, Lord Lonsdale, the Duke and 
Duchess of Sutherland, Mr. and Mrs. W. H. Grenfellj now 
Lord and Lady Desborough, and the 7th Duke of Rutland, then 
eighty-six years old. Mr. Chamberlain spoke for an hour, and 
proved a most clear and lucid exponent of his very comphcated 
scheme. I noticed that his only note was a small piece of paper 
twisted round his fingers, to which I do not think he referred 
more than once or twice. During his speech a violent thunder- 
storm took place, rendering it difficult for him to make him- 
self heard; but his voice was so clear and ringing that it quite 
filled the large riding school. The storm caused a number of 
sparrows and other small birds to take refuge in the building, 
and they not only interrupted the meeting by their twitters, 
but saluted it in another manner, generally considered lucky, 
as they flew about. 

It was an interesting coincidence that the venerable Duke of 
Rutland was present because, as Lord John Manners, he had 
been not only a colleague but an intimate friend of Lord George 
Bentinck and Disraeli, during the famous Free Trade versus 
Protection controversy sixty years before. After the death of 
Lord George in 1848, Lord John’s elder brother^ — ^then 
Marquis of Granby and afterwards the 6th Duke of Rutland — 
was elected leader of the Protectionist Party with Lord Herries, 
Disraeli acting as their chief adviser ; but he almost immediately 
became the leader himself. When I mentioned the Duke’s 

^Afterwards Sir Arthur Pearson, Bt., G.B.E., the founder of St. Dunstan^s for the 
care of blinded isailors, soldiers and airmen. 

^See Aj^endix IV* 


presence to Mr. Chamberlain, and reminded him of His Grace’s 
connection with the Protectionist Party in 1845, he was exceed- 
ingly interested. I remember that he said, ‘Oh! dear, Oh! dear; 
what a long time I have wasted. If only my eyes and those of 
the people I am now trying to convert had been opened sooner, 
how much better it would have been for the country.’^ The 
little table from which Mr. Chamberlain spoke is now in my 
sitting-room, and bears the following inscription ; 

‘This table was used by the Earl of Rosebery, at his great 
meeting at Chesterfield, i8th December, 1901; also by Mr. 
Joseph Chamberlain, in the Riding School at Welbeck, 4th 
August, 1904; and also by the Prime Minister, Mr. Stanley 
Baldwin, at two great meetings at Welbeck, Whit Monday, 
1925, and Whit Monday, 1928, more than fifty thousand people 
being present on these two occasions ; and again on Whit Mon- 
day, 1931, when Mfr. Baldwin was Leader of the Opposition.’ 

I remember two amusing stories which the 7th Duke of 
Rutland told me about himself. When a boy, he was allowed to 
hunt with the Belvoir Hounds ; but he was forbidden to go more 
than a short distance away from the Castle, being told that 
he must be home for his lessons by a certain time. One day the 
hounds ran a fox to ground quite near the Castle. John Manners 
was so dehghted with the lengthy process of digging it out that 
he said to an old sportsman, ‘If I am ever Master of these 
hoimds, I shall spend a great deal of my time digging out foxes. 
What fun it is ! ’ ‘Then I hope to God, young gentleman, you 
never will be Master,’ was the crushing reply. In his youth Lord 
John grew a beard, but, as some of his constituents objected, he 
consulted Lord George Bentinck about it. Of course they both 
treated it as a joke, and Lord George said, ‘ If I were you, I 
should refer the matter to a jury of matrons. Ask them whether 
they prefer you with a beard, or clean-shaven, and be guided 
by what they say.’ 

When we visited the Dudleys at Witley in December, 1901, 

am glad to have lived to see the reintroduction of Protection after so many 
years, for I am convinced that it is the right policy at the present time, especially 
for agricultiure. 


we travelled by train from Chesterfield, I noticed that a large 
wooden building had been erected near the station, in which, I 
was told. Lord Rosebery was to speak that evening; and he 
delivered an oration which afterwards became famous as his 
Glean Slate speech. 

On arrival at Witley, we met Mr, and Mrs, Joseph Chamber- 
lain. I mentioned the building at Chesterfield, and remarked, ‘I 
wonder what Rosebery will say.’ Chamberlain repHed, ‘I am 
fairly sure he will say this, that, and the other thing.’ I asked 
him why he thought so, and he answered, ‘Because, when I put 
myself in his place, that, to my mind, is the only fresh line open 
to him. In fact, I feel so sure of it that I have drafted a leading 
article for tomorrow’s Birmingham Post, of which I am a Director, 
deahng with the speech on those lines.’ 

So sound was Chamberlain’s judgment that, when the speech 
appeared in print next morning, it was almost point for point as 
he had predicted; and his article was able to appear as it stood. 
I think this is a wonderfully good instance of Mr. Chamberlain’s 
foresight and good judgment. 

Chamberlain’s secession from the Liberal Party seemed to me 
a great act of patriotism, for without doubt he would otherwise 
have been Prime Minister before the end of his career. I re- 
member, however, his saying to my wife that he had no further 
ambition of that sort, and that all his poHtical hopes were now 
centred in the career of his sons’^. 

I consider that Lord Hartington, afterwards the 8th Duke of 
Devonshire, was one of the most remarkable and able men I 
have ever had the good fortune to know. He was extremely 
straightforward, and never prevaricated or distorted the truth 
in any way. I have been told that, when he was a Cabinet 
Minister, Lord Salisbury relied very much upon his judgment. I 
have heard it said that, on an occasion when the Cabinet could 
not decide between two possible lines of action. Lord Salisbury 

^As is well known, Sir Austen Chamberlain, at the time of his lamented death, 
had held nearly every Cabinet appointment and was, moreover, a Knight of the 
Garter, while his younger brother, Neville, is now Prime Minister. So Mr. Cham- 
berlain’s hopes have been happily realised- 



November 17th, 1910 

1. Mr. Spalding 7. Rt. Hon. E. G. Pretyman 

2. Viscount Gastlereagh 8. Portland, (Chairman) 

3. Earl Manvers 9. Rt. Hon. H. Chaplin 

4. Lord Northcote 10. Lord Desborough 

5. Sir A. F. Acland-Hood, Bt. ii. Lord Kenyon 

6. Rt. Hon. A. Balfour 12. Viscount Galway 

Welbeck, 1913 

said, ‘I am sure we should all like to know the Duke of Devon- 
shire’s opinion’ ; and it was then found that the Duke had been 
fast asleep ever since the discussion began. When he woke up, 
Lord Salisbury explained the pros and cons of the matter over 
again for his benefit. Devonshire at once, in most lucid terms, 
expressed his opinion, which was accepted by his colleagues as 
the right decision to come to. 

The Duke suffered much from constitutional somnolence. 
One afternoon, finding the Ministerial Bench in the House of 
Lords occupied, he sat on another bench next to me, and in two 
minutes was asleep. When he woke with a start, he looked at the 
clock and said, ‘ Good heavens ! What a bore! I shan’t be in 
bed for another seven hours I’ 

One morning his servant called him at the usual time, but he 
gave one glance through the window and said, ‘Go away! 
There’s a horrible fog this morning, and I’m not going to get up 
yet.’ The servant returned two hours later, with the same result. 
Later still, the man returned and said, ‘I beg your pardon. Your 
Grace; it is luncheon time. That is not fog you see through the 
window — ^it is a tent Her Grace has had put up in the garden for 
a party this afternoon.’ 

A member of the family has kindly written to me as follows : 

‘. . . Here are the two stories about my imcle which I told you 

‘He is supposed to have said, “I had a horrid nightmare. I 
dreamed that I was making a speech in the House of Lords — 
and I woke up and found I was actually doing so.” 

‘After my uncle’s death a letter from Lord SaHsbury was 
found among his papers, evidently in reply to one from him 
rfm -m-mpriding two very worthy and respectable members of 
the House of Commons for peerages. Lord Sahsbury wrote, “I 
am doubtful about B’s chastity; and as regards H. — the House 
of Lords has survived many shocks, but do you really think it 
would survive H.’s elevation?” 

‘You are most welcome to bring these into your reminis- 
cences. . . .’ 


When Joseph Chamberlain introduced his policy of Tariff 
Reform, the Duke, who had been brought up as a Liberal and 
was a Free Trader, felt extremely unwilling to accept it, and in 
the end did not do so. However, he was too loyal to his col- 
leagues in the Cabinet to rehnquish office in a hurry; and he 
excused his reluctance to do so by saying he thought it was for 
the country’s good that he should act as ‘a brake to the wheel’. 
Lord Rosebery asked him three leading questions in the House 
of Lords. In order to be quite explicit, Rosebery had written 
these down; aaid when he finished his speech, he handed the 
paper to the Duke, with a request for direct answers. The Duke 
read the questions carefully, grew very red and confused, and 
repHed, T can’t answer, and I won’t answer. That is aU I have 
to say.’ Three or fom days later he sent in his resignation. 

Lord Reay, the President of the London School Board, whose 
family had lived in Holland for several generations, made rather 
a long speech in the House of Lords, which he read from a paper 
in a guttural voice. It was the Duke’s duty to reply; but, 
when he rose, all he said was, T am sorry not to be able to 
answer the noble Lord; for, to teU the truth, I did not under- 
stand one word he said. If the noble Lord will kindly send me 
his script, I will carefully consider it, and will reply either in 
this House or in writing.’ Lord Reay joined in the general 
laughter, and admitted his poor pronunciation of EngHsh. Lord 
Reay^ was, as his successor is now, chief of the Clan Mackay. 
His family formerly owned a very large estate in the north of 
Sutherland, which they sold to the Duke of Sutherland at the 
beginning of the nineteenth century. There is still a charming 
house at Tongue, which was once the family residence. They 
have since lived chiefly in Holland, as Dutch subjects, though I 
believe the present Lord Reay has become a naturahsed 

When, as Lord Hartington, the Duke of Devonshire was 

^In spite of the disability to which I refer, Lord Reay had a very 
careq:. At variom times he, was Governor of Bombay, Under-Secretary of State for 
India, and first President of the British Academy. He was an Honorary Doctor of 
several Universities. 


Member for the Rossendale Division of Lancashire, he was ap- 
pointed a Cabinet Minister. In those days it was necessary to 
seek re-election upon appointment to the Cabinet. Sir Henry 
James, afterwards Lord James of Hereford, told me that he 
accompanied Hartington to Rossendale, and asked him about 
his intended speech. Hartington gave him the outline of it. On 
arrival, they found that three meetings had been arranged for 
that evening. At the first, Hartington spoke for about fifty 
minutes. They then drove on to the next meeting and, in answer 
to an enquiry from James, Hartington said, ‘Oh, I shall just 
make the same speech over again.’ When they reached the hall, 
however, they found that most of the leading reporters had 
followed them. On this being brought to his notice, Hartington 
remarked, ‘What an awful bore ! I must make another speech’ ; 
and this he did, very well indeed, on an entirely different range 
of subjects. At the third meeting, to their horror, they found the 
same reporters again; and Hartington repeated his wonderful 
feat, making a third speech, no less effective and closely 
reasoned than the others, but again on a different range of 
subjects. After teUing me this, James said, ‘I never really realised 
till then what an able man Hartington is, and what a wonderful 
brain he has. I don’t believe any other man of my acquaintance 
could have done such a thing. He had no notes, but he seemed 
to have every subject at his fingers’ ends.’ 

It was said that Lord Salisbury never allowed anything to inter- 
fere with the transaction of public business, except what he 
termed ‘the Duke of Devonshire’s holy days’ — that is, days 
upon which the more important races were decided. When dis- 
cussing dates for Meetings of the Cabinet, he was always careful 
to ask ‘Are you quite sure that isn’t one of Devonshire’s holy 

When the King of Portugal was my guest at Welbeck, he gave 
me the high Portuguese Order of the Tower and Sword. He 
also invested the Duke of Devonshire with the same Order. Not 
long afterwards, I paid a visit to Chatsworth to meet H.M. 
When the Duke greeted me on arrival he said, ‘How do you do, 


brother of the Order of the Elephant and Castle? — ^For that is 
the name of the Order weVe both been given, isn’t it?’ 

The Duke wore the Order for Dinner, and afterwards, as 
usual, he played bridge. He had one bad hand after another 
dealt to him, till at last he said, T believe this damned Elephant 
and Castle is bringing me bad luck. If I have another poor hand 
I shall throw the wretched thing into the fire.’ Soveral, then 
Portuguese Minister to this country, was standing just behind, 
and joined in the laughter. The Duke was well known to be no 
respecter of persons or lover of ‘badges and chains and things’, 
as he called them. 

I have lately (July 1937) heard a discussion as to the relative 
merits of the speeches made in the Upper and Lower Houses on 
great occasions ; and it was agreed that, taking it as a whole, the 
speaking in the House of Lords is better than that in the House 
of Commons. Perhaps this is not to be wondered at, as we all 
know that some of the most able men are from time to time 
recruited from the Lower House to the House of Lords. I do not 
think, however, that many votes are influenced by speeches, 
most individuals having already made up their minds as to the 
course they intend to take. 

During the discussion, many suggestions were made as to 
the best speakers during the last fifty years, and it seemed 
to be generally agreed that the 8th Duke of Argyll was 
among the best. I myself remember an occasion when he 
spoke, I believe, in opposition to one of the Home Rule 
Bills. Though not tall, he was a man of most commanding 
presence; and, as he spoke from the Front Opposition Bench, 
he rested his hand on an oak walking-stick. He had a leonine 
head of hair, through which he occasionally passed his hand, 
emphasizing his periods with repeated thumps of his stick. 

On another occasion he addressed the House in magniloquent 
language for some time. Lord Rosebery repHed, as we all 
thought, rather disrespectfully, for he said, ‘The noble Duke has 
made full use of his wonderful gift of oratory; yet he seemed to 
me to use words more worthy of a pedantic Scots pedagogue 



rvi 1? A/ToT'/nin^iOO 

than of a great statesman, as he undoubtedly is/ We all held 
our breath; but the noble Duke only gave an extra thump 
with his stick and took no further notice. 

I remember that Lord Cawdor made a fine and convincing 
oration upon the Home Rule Bill. I beheve he was then First 
Lord of the Admiralty and, for the time being, Leader of the 

Colonel E. J. Saunderson, the well-known M.P. for North 
Armagh, who lived in County Cavan, was a most excellent 
political speaker. He was, too, a very witty and attractive man, 
with many amusing stories to tell of political meetings in the 
North of Ireland and elsewhere. At one of these he was finishing 
his speech feehng rather pleased with himself, when (as he de- 
scribed it) a ‘Httle spalpeen of a boy, in rags and with a dirty 
face, jumped up and shouted at the top of his very shrill voice, 
“Shut up Saunderson — ^ye bore me! Ye fill me with onwee 
{ennui) ” ! ’ This remark was greeted with roars of laughter, in 
which Saunderson joined as heartily as anyone: so, for the mo- 
ment at least, it attained its object. 

Two very distinguished Irish peers, both in their time leaders 
of the Irish Bar, had an amusing difference of opinion in the 
House of Lords. Lord X,, who occupied a seat on the Treasury 
bench, made a most eloquent speech, as was his usual custom. 
When he had finished. Lord Y. jumped to his feet and, with 
apparent anger and much native eloquence, denounced him. ‘My 
Lords,’ he began, T have listened with impatience to every word 
my noble friend has said, for it seemed to me that the whole of his 
statement was one long ipse dixit. He did not give a single word 
of proof or sound argument. It was ipse dixit this, and ipse dixit 
that, and ipse dixit everything else. But I would have the noble 
Lord to know that I care no more for his ipse dixit on this ques- 
tion, or on any other, than I would for that of any little bhoy in 
the streets of old Dubhn.’ This tirade went on for about ten 
minutes, while the House rocked with suppressed laughter. It 
was reported afterwards that, as Y. was beating the palm of his 
hand with his fist, X. whispered, ‘Sme, he wishes it was my 

head that he had under his fist.’ At last the noble Lord sat down, 
apparently exhausted. Soon afterwards. Lord X. rose to leave 
the House. As he passed his enemy he tapped him on the knee; 
they both went out together, arm in arm; and I saw them in 
the refreshment room afterwards, thoroughly enjoying one 
another’s company. 

Another witty Irish speaker was the Rt. Hon. David Plunket, 
afterwards created Lord Rathmore. I first heard him at a poH- 
tical meeting at Chesterfield, at which I took the chair. He had 
a slight hesitation in his speech, of which he made full and force- 
ful use. 

In 1895 Lord Ashbourne, then Lord Chancellor of Ire- 
land, attended a meeting in Worksop. Frank Mildmay made 
a speech, and was subjected to a good deal of interruption. 
After the meeting, Ashbourne said to me, ‘Young Mildmay is 
a sticky young fellow.’ Not understanding, I said, ‘No, no — 
I thought he spoke very well.’ ‘So he did,’ replied Ashbourne ; 
‘what I meant was that he stuck to his point through all the 

In January or February, 1914, I had the pleasure of paying 
a visit to Lord Londonderry at Mount Stewart. Mr. Walter 
Long, Mr. James Craig (now Lord Craigavon, the Prime 
Minister of Northern Ireland), and his brother, who was un- 
fortunately killed early in the War, were among the guests. We 
saw preparations being made for the resistance to Home Rule, 
and attended several parades of the troops. So widespread was 
the movement that we noticed a peer of the realm in the ranks, 
being drilled by his butler. I also attended a luncheon and two 
large meetings at which Londonderry, Carson, Walter Long and 
others spoke — all, of course, very strongly in opposition to Home 

At one of the meetings, in the Ulster Hall, Belfast, I made a 
short speech. I was introduced by Lord Londonderry, who was 
in the chair, as the direct descendant of the Earl of Portland 
who commanded the cavalry xmder EHing William of pious and 
immortal memory, at the Battle of the Boyne. I was given a 


tremendous reception; and it seemed to me that the people 
thought the Battle of the Boyne had been fought in very recent 
times. When we left the meeting we heard reports and saw 
flashes of light. I remarked, ‘Good gracious ! Has the fighting 
begun already?’ ‘Oh, dear me, no!’ was the reply, ‘they’re only 
popping off revolvers in honour of the Battle of the Boyne, and 
as a special salute to you.’ 

I was also taken to one of the large shipyards, and was asked 
whether I should like to talk to some of the men. I replied that I 
should, very much indeed; and I said, ‘I am told you are all 
bitterly opposed to Home Rule.’ ‘We are indeed,’ was the reply; 
‘we’d rather submit to a bombardment.’ ‘Well,’ I remarked, ‘I 
think you have a most excellent leader in Sir Edward Carson.’ 
‘We all believe in him,’ they said, ‘and so long as he’s staunch 
against Home Rule we’ll follow him to the death.’ I am quite 
sure they would have done so. 

Lord Londonderry told me a story to show what extreme 
Protestants they were. One of his friends was travelling by train 
between Belfast and Newtownards, when an individual in the 
carriage abused the Pope. Londonderry’s friend listened for a 
while, and finally asked the man why he was so bitter. ‘I have 
just come from Rome,’ he added, ‘and I assure you that the 
Pope is a very good man, and highly respected.’ ‘That may be 
so in Rome,’ said the man, ‘but he has a very bad reputation 
indeed in Newtownards.’ 

Besides the interest of the meetings, I had two days’ excellent 
shooting at Mount Stewart, with plenty of woodcock to miss and 
to hit. 





Among our Naval friends was dear old Sir Harry Keppel,^ 
/ \who not only distinguished himself in the Crimea, but was 
/ V present at the destruction of the ChineseNavy in 1 857, and 
during the suppression of the Taiping rebellion. He was a great 
favourite of the late King Edward, and especially so of Queen 
Alexandra, whom he adored and who often spoke of him as 
‘my dear little Admiral’. I met him at Ascot, and said, ‘How 
are you. Sir Harry?’ ‘Dying fast, my boy! Dying fast! But for 
heaven’s sake give me some luncheon, for I’m very hungry.’ 
When he commanded at Plymouth, Charlie Beresford was his 
Flag-Lieutenant. He took Charlie with him to a shooting party ; 
and the Admiral was advancing with the beaters, when the guns 
ahead heard bullets whistling and saw branches of trees falling. 
Sir Harry had been shooting wild boar in Albania; and his 
sailor-servant was loading his gun with ball ammimition left 
over from that expedition ! 

After a dinner-party, the Admiral and Charlie drove back to 
Plymouth. They took the toll-gate off its hinges and brought it 
back to the Flagship where, in order to get rid of it, they burnt it 
in the furnace. I wonder what would have happened if this had 
been reported in the newspapers! But the Admiral was up to 
every boyish prank, especially when in Charlie Beresford’s 

Years later, when Charlie was a Captain, Sir Harry, who by 
this time was no longer on active service, dined with him on 
board his vessel. When retmning to shore, he unfortunately 
missed his footing and fell into the sea. He was promptly hauled 
^Admiral of the Fleet Sir Henry Keppel, G.C.B., O.M., 1809-1904. 


out and, gasping for breath, said, ‘CharKe, on no account let 
my wife know about this, or she’ll say I was drunk.’ 

Charlie Beresford was a very popular and extremely well- 
known character in his day. His Irish bonhomie and ready wit 
procured him many friends wherever he went. When he was not 
serving at sea, he was a Member of the House of Commons; 
and when he was not a Member of the House of Commons, 
he was serving at sea. He was very often my guest at Wel- 
beck, Newmarket and Langwell, where he died with tragic sud- 
denness after dinner, as I have related in Chapter IX of my 
earher book. Fifty Tears and More of Sport in Scotland. It was 
rather curious that our dear old friend Major Baker-Carr, who 
was with him when he died, should have said, ‘What a happy 
end it was for CharHe. I hope I may go in the same way when 
my time comes.’ His wish was fulfilled. 

When I visited Admiral Sir Michael Culme-Seymour, then 
Commander -in -Chief at Portsmouth, Captain Alfred Paget 
arrived to take command of a ship. A son of Lord Alfred Paget, 
of whom I have written in Chapter V, he later became an 
Admiral and was knighted. When I met him at Portsmouth, 
he had been employed for some time in the Admiralty, and 
seemed quite delighted to be again going to sea. With great 
difficulty, the Admiral persuaded him to tell the following story. 

He was very fond of ballooning and early one morning, 
he descended from a baUoon by parachute, not attached to it 
in the usual way, but holding on by his hands. He landed on the 
roof of a Parsonage, to the great consternation of the clergy- 
man, his wife and his two daughters, who all ran into the 
garden in their night attire. Hearing one of the daughters ex- 
claim, ‘Fetch your gun, father. There’s a burglar on the roof!’ 
Paget quite calmly said, ‘No, for Grod’s sake don’t fetch a gun. 
Get a ladder instead, and then give me some breakfast.’ So all 
ended happily, over the family coffee-pot. When the Great War 
broke out, I believe he had retired from the Service; but he 
volunteered to join the Navy in any position, however subor- 
dinate, which the Admiralty might assign to him. 


It always irritated Sir Michael if he heard anyone praise an 
officer for bravery. ‘Brave? God bless my soul, of course he’s 
brave ! Who the devil thinks anything of that? They’d damned 
soon get rid of him if he wasn’t. What you want is brains, as well 
as courage.’ 

A romantic lady talked to him of the hardships of the Navy in 
wartime. ‘Hardships be damned ! Why, I hear they now have hot 
rolls every morning for breakfast. Talk about hardships in the 
trenches, if you like, but not in the Navy.’ 

At one of my Coldstream parties, General Sir Geoffrey Field- 
ing was among the guests. He told us that, when a young man, 
he visited the Crimea with his father, General the Hon. Sir 
Percy Fielding (1827—1904), who showed him the vaUey where 
the charge of Balaclava took place, and gave him the following 
account of it. 

Sir Percy, then serving in the Coldstream Guards, was 
Piquet Officer for the day. He visited the outposts of the army, 
and then proceeded to Lord Raglan’s quarters to present his 
report. As he was leaving. Lord Raglan said, ‘I want you to call 
upon Lord Lucan,^ and tell him to bring in the guns at the side 
of the valley, which we lost a few days ago, if he can do so 
without undue risk.’ At this moment Captain Nolan, 15th 
Hussars, A.D.C. to General Airey, arrived with a message. ‘No 
matter now,’ said Lord Raglan to Fielding, ‘Nolan will take the 
message. Did you hear and understand what I said, Nolan?’ 
‘Yes, my lord’, replied Nolan, ‘I quite understand.’ He and 
Fielding then rode off. 

When they arrived at Lord Lucan’s quarters. Fielding said to 
Nolan, ‘You’re quite sure you remember the message?’ ‘Yes — I 
am to say that if Lord Lucan sees a favourable opportunity and 
can do so without much difficulty, he is to bring in the guns.’ 
At that moment up rode Lord Cardigan, who commanded the 
Light Cavalry Brigade and lived, not in camp, but on his yacht 
in Balaclava Harbour. In a rather offensive manner, he said to 
Nolan, ‘What’s that you are saying, young fellow?’ Nolan, a 

^The Earl of Lucan commanded the Cavalry Division. 


hot-tempered Irishman, was much nettled, and replied perhaps 
somewhat disrespectfully. ‘By God!’ Cardigan said, ‘If I come 
through this alive. I’ll have you court-martialled for speaking to 
me in that manner.’ 

The charge took place soon afterwards, Lord Cardigan lead- 
ing, and Nolan riding close to him. Before they had gone any 
distance, a round-shot hit Nolan in the chest ; and, after gallop- 
ing round and round, waving his sword, he fell dead from his 
horse. Cardigan, as is well known, led the charge, attacking the 
Russian batteries at the end of the valley instead of bringing in 
the guns, which had been left at its side. That, in a few words, is 
the account Sir Geoffrey’s father gave him of this celebrated 
affair. He added, ‘Of course it was a terrible mistake and a 
muddled business altogether.’ 

My old friend Sir George Wombwell (1832-1913), then a Cornet 
in the 1 7th Lancers, had his horse killed at the very beginning of 
the famous charge. He was taken prisoner by the Cossacks and 
was standing with them, when he saw a loose horse galloping 
past. He made a dash for it and, being a very active young man, 
vaulted on to its back. One of the Cossacks pursued him with a 
lance ; but, luckily for Wombwell, the point turned on the silver 
pouch he wore on his back, and failed to injure him. I have seen 
the pouch at Newborough; it has a hole through one side. 

Before Wombwell could check the horse, it galloped a Kttle 
way up the valley, and was then killed. In the meantime the 
Cossacks from whom he had escaped were cut down by our 
heavy cavalry. Sir George amused everyone when he told the 
tale, for he said that the second horse had a brand-new saddle 
and bridle; so, being a canny Yorkshireman, he took them both 
off, and walked back to the British Hnes with them on his back. 
Sir George, therefore, had three narrow escapes during the 
charge of Balaclava. Later in life, he was one of the few survivors 
of the terrible hunting accident in Newby Park, near York, when 
several of his friends were drowned in the swollen river. He sat 
on the keel of the capsized ferry-boat, and assisted some of the 
others to mount it, thereby saving their Kves. 


Sir George, who was a very well-known and popular figure in 
Yorkshire, was a great patron of the drama. One night he was 
sitting in a box in the theatre at York, smoking a large cigar, 
when the chief actor objected to the smoke and refused to pro- 
ceed until it was stopped. One of Sir George’s admirers in the 
gallery promptly shouted, ‘Go on with your play-acting, and 
leave our Sir Gearge to enjoy himself’ 

He was a first-rate judge of a horse, and never averse to a 
deal. I once showed him some Shire mares and foals, one of 
which was a piebald. This seemed to take Sir George’s fancy, 
and he asked the stud-groom, Donald McGunn, what he would 
ask for it. The man made no reply, but looked rather doubtfully 
at me. Wombwell said again, ‘What is your price?’ and he 
answered, ‘Weel, Sir George, that would depend upon the kind 
of mer-rchant I was dealing wi’.’ 

Sir George was a great ally of a well-known Yorkshire dealer 
in hackney horses, known as Gypsy Jack, who won many prizes 
at the local horse shows, at which Sir George was often a judge. 
Mrs. Gypsy Jack, a very good-looking, smart woman, was no 
doubt of great assistance to her husband, for she drove his 
horses in first-rate style. On one occasion, when Sir George 
handed her the winning rosette, she caused everyone great 
amusement by inviting him to sit by her side during her drive 
round the ring — ^which he did. 

I was well acquainted with Colonel Fred Burnaby; indeed he 
married my first cousin, Lizzie Whitshed. He was one of the 
most remarkable men I ever came across, being not only enor- 
mously big and powerful but unusually handsome, and a man 
of great ability as well. When I first knew him, he had been 
chosen as Parliamentary Candidate for one of the Divisions of 
Birmingham in opposition, I believe, to John Bright. I am sure 
the difficulty of the task only added to his enjoyment of it, for he 
was a born fighter. 

Colonel Burnaby, who was an officer in the Royal Horse 
Guards (Blues), stood six feet four inches high, and had a splen- 
did physique. He exercised with an enormous dumb-bell — I 


believe it weighed a hundredweight and a half— and could bend 
a poker round his own or anyone else’s neck. He was very good- 
natured, and encouraged his young brother-officers to hit him 
on the chest as hard as ever they could, roaring with laughter 
when they asked whether it hurt him. 

One officer in the Regiment, a supercilious, disagreeable 
young man whom Burnaby did not like at all, instead of hitting 
him on the chest like the rest of them, gave him a tremendous 
kick on the shins and said, ‘Did that hurt?* Burnaby promptly 
seized him by the collar with one hand, carried him across the 
room, opened a window with the other hand, and quietly 
dropped him into the flower-beds a storey below. 

As to his famous ride to Khiva, of which he himself wrote an 
account, I remember a funny story. He was entertained by a 
Khan, or some other high official, who complained of being in 
ill health. Burnaby listened to the symptoms and then gave the 
man a box of Cockle’s pills, recommending him to take them 
until the box was empty. The Khan, with many expressions of 
gratitude, promptly swallowed the whole lot — and recovered 
his health ! 

Burnaby served with great distinction in the Soudan. At El 
Teb, armed only with a shot-gun, he rushed into a mass of 
the enemy and dislodged them from a fort. He was most unfor- 
tunately killed at Abu Klea, when a spear pierced his throat. 
It was a sad but gallant end to an exceptionally brave and 
gifted man, but was undoubtedly the death he would have 
preferred to any other. It is impossible to imagine Fred Burnaby 
dying peacefully in his bed. 

I knew Bill Gumming^ very well, and for a long time liked and 
admired him greatly, bothas a gallant soldier and as a fine sports- 
man. His uncle, Roualeyn Gordon-Cumming, had been one of 
the pioneers of African travel and big-game shooting, and Bill 
followed in his footsteps. A firiend of mine who went on an ex- 
pedition with him was loud in praise of Bill’s sportsmanship, 
bravery and unselfishness. He also distinguished himself very 
^Gol. Sir William Gktrdon-Guimning, Bt., Scots Guards. 


much during the campaigns in Egypt, particularly during the 
expedition sent to reheve Khartoum. But he had one serious 
faihng: he could not play fair at cards, even when the stakes 
were extremely small. The story of the unsavoury affair at Tran- 
by Croft, and of his subsequent debdcle, is an extremely sad one, 
and caused great sorrow to his friends. I could never under- 
stand why poor Bill behaved as he did. It cannot have been for 
want of money, because, though not what is called a rich man, 
he was by no means a poor one, being possessed of a good estate 
in Scotland; and in any case the stakes for which they were 
playing were very low. However, there it is; there was no 
doubt of his guilt, and he had to pay the penalty. In the days of 
duelling, it would have been a brave man who accused Bill of 
any such thing, as he was a dead shot with a revolver or a pistol. 
If England had always been at war, or if Bill had always been in 
pursuit of dangerous big-game, everyone would have thought, 
quite righdy, diat no better soldier, or finer fellow in every way, 
ever existed. He was often the guest of the Central Indian Horse, 
with whom he shot tigers on foot — ^possibly the most dangerous 
form of sport in the world, especially in thick jungle. This in it- 
self proved Bill’s courage and skill, as the officers would not 
allow anyone to be of their party unless they were convinced of 
his reliabihty. 

My friend Major-General Sir J. P. Brabazon, K.C.B., was a 
most remarkable man. He was very good looking and a great 
dandy; but besides this he was an extremely gallant and efficient 
soldier. In his youth he was known as Beautiful Bwab^ because of 
his good looks and his inability to pronounce his r’s. He began 
his career in the Grenadier Guards, but exchanged into a line 
Regiment. When asked what Regiment it was, he repHed with 
his usual drawl, ‘My dear fellow, I’ve a damn bad head for 
figures, so I can’t wemember the number of the Wegiment; but 
to find it you take the twain from Waterloo to Aldershot, and then 
look about till you see a Wegiment with buff facings.’ As can be 
imagined, Bwab was hardly suited to the Regiment, or the Regi- 
ment to Bwab ! So he retired firom the Army for the time being. 



1 880 

From Vanity Fair. See Appendix VII 



1886 ,, -t/TT 

VanitJ’ Fair. See Appendix Vll 


loth Royal Hussars 

Fortunately for him — ^for he loved campaigning and fighting 
— the Ashanti war broke out about this time, and he went out as 
a volunteer, with Captain Arthur Paget of the Scots Guards. 
They both covered themselves with glory and were sent home 
with despatches and King Kofi Karil^ri’s state umbrella. The 
Prince of Wales, who was a personal friend, recommended 
Bwab for a commission in the loth Hussars, of which H.R.H. was 
the Colonel. In due course Bwab proceeded with the loth 
Hussars to India, and there served with great distinction, both 
with the Regiment and on the staff of Lord Roberts, the Com- 
mander-in-Chief, in his famous Afghan campaign, ending with 
the victorious march to Kandahar. After some years Bwab became 
second-in-command of the loth Hussars and, after serving in the 
Egyptian campaign, was promoted to command the 4th 
Hussars. It was under him, I believe, that Winston Churchill 
began his military career. 

On the outbreak of war in South Africa, Bwab was given com- 
mand of a cavalry force ; but by that time he had grown rather too 
old for such strenuous work. My brother, Henry Bentinck, went 
out to South Africa, in charge of what was known as the Port- 
land Hospital;^ but he was anxious to see active service, and 
when the hospital was established he joined Brabazon’s staff. 
One day Brabazon and his stafif were on the top of a small hill, 
and were heavily fired upon by the Boers. Brabazon said to his 
staff, ‘Take cover, boys, take cover’ ; but, as he showed no signs 
of taking cover himself, Henry and the rest of them were very 
reluctant to enter the trench. However, Brabazon insisted upon 
their doing so, while he himseF walked up and down, drawing a 
very heavy fire. When they remonstrated with him, he said, T 
believe certain people have cast aspersions on my personal 

^The idea of providing a movable hospital for use in South Africa was suggested 
by Mrs. J. F. Bagot, now Lady Bagot; and, with the approval of the War Office, a 
fund for that purpose was opened in November 1 899. My brother and sister-in-law, 
Henry and Birdie Bentinck, were the first to respond; and they accompanied the 
hospital to South Africa in the following December, where it rendered valuable 
service at Rondebosch, Bloemfontein and elsewhere. It was kindly named after me 
because I helped with a subscription. For a full account of the hospital, see Dosia 
Bagot, Shadows of the War (E. Arnold, 1900) • 


couwage: so I wish to show you all that my personal couwage 
is as good as ever it was.’ After a few moments, he slowly walked 
into the trench and sat down. 

Soon after this, some troops came very hurriedly into the 
trench, and a sergeant jumped on to the top of Bwab. Bwab was 
extremely indignant and took the sergeant by the ear, saying, 
‘Get out again, and / will show you how you should come into a 
twench and set a good example to the men.’ This of course 
drew more heavy fire firom the enemy; but Brabazon would not 
let the unfortunate sergeant go until he thought he had learned 
his lesson. Then, after a slow retreat to the trench, he said, 
''That is the way you should come into a twench, instead of 
jumping into the middle of other people’s stomachs.’ 

Bwab had a great liking for Green Chartreuse, and one day 
discovered a botde of this delectable Hqueur in a roadside pub- 
lic house. He paid for it; and, as he could not take it with him, 
he told the proprietor that he would collect it some other time. 
When out for a ride with Henry one morning he said, ‘Let’s go 
and get my bottle of Chartweuse.’ They found, however, that 
the man had either drunk it himself or sold it again. Brabazon’s 
indignation was extreme, and he was not too polite to the pro- 
prietor of the hotel. 

When in the loth Hussars, Bwab was offered herrings for 
dinner. He refused the dish with indignation, saying, ‘Why do 
you bwing me a damned bweakfast-fish for my dinner?’ I asked 
him why he so termed it, and he said, ‘Dinner-fish is salmon, or 
turbot, or sole — ^not hewwings.^ 

It was Bwab’s rather bad habit always to arrive very late for 
dinner. Lord Rosebery invited him to dinner one evening; and, 
when the time came, of course he had not arrived. Rosebery 
said to his other guests, ‘I’m damned if we’ll wait for old Bwab. 
When he comes, I beg of you not to pay any attention whatever 
to him. I’ll deal with him all right.’ During dessert, Bwab turned 
up and repeated his usual formula — ‘I’m so sowwy I’m late, dear 

old boy ! Never mind me I’ll begin where you are ’ fuUy 

expecting dinner to be brought back for him as usual. Rosebery, 


Above: South Africa 
Below: 9th Lancers 


however, proved quite equal to the occasion and said, ‘Hullo, 
Bwab ! Where the devil have jvow turned up from? Sit down, and 
have an apple and a glass of water.’ 

After the death of Lord Roberts in November, 1914, a full- 
page picture of him and several of the ofl&cers who had served 
on his Staff in his various campaigns appeared in the Illustrated 
London News. The paper was lying open on the round table in 
the Morning Room of the Turf Club, around which several 
other members and I were sitting, when Bwab came into 
the room. He came up to the table, looked at the paper, 
and said, ‘Ah! That is Lord Woberts.’ I then pointed to the 
other portraits one by one, and said, ‘Who is that?’ Having 
looked carefully at each through his eye-glass, he replied, ‘Ah ! 
that is So-and-So.’ Last of all I pointed to a picture of himself, 
sayiug, ‘And who is this extraordinarily handsome man?’ Bra- 
bazon had a good look at it and then exclaimed, ‘Who is that? 
Why, my dear fellow, it’s ME, of course!’ ‘Of course it’s you,’ I 
replied; ‘and what were you at the time?’ ‘Bwigade Major of 
Cavalwy, old boy, on the Staff of Lord Woberts during his 
Afghan campaign, which ended with his victorwious march to 
Kandahar.’ Dear old Bwab was quite delighted, and so were we 
all, at the opportunity the illustration gave us of seeing why he 
had been so rightly known as ‘Beautiful Bwab’. 

I remember meeting F.-M. Lord Roberts at Sandringham, at 
a summer party. Maj.-Gen. H.H. Sir Partab Singh of Idar was 
also there. Sir Partab had hurt his ankle in a polo accident not 
long before; but for aU that he appeared in the evening in his 
tight military boots, though they evidently caused him con- 
siderable pain. After dinner, both the Prince and Princess of 
Wales begged him to sit down, but nothing would induce him 
to do so in their presence. At last they turned to Lord Roberts, 
and asked him to persuade Sir Partab to be seated. Lord Roberts 
did so; and at once Sir Partab put his hands palm to palm 
before his face, in salute, and popped down into a chair. He 
explained that it was impossible for him to disobey for one 
second the orders of the Bahadur. 


Polly Carew told me that Lord Roberts and his staff were 
directing a battle during the Afghan campaign, and were rather 
hotly fired upon. Sir Partab kept edging his horse up, in front 
of the other staff officers, and Roberts waved him back more 
than once. On the next day, one of the staff reported that he 
was sure Sir Partab had been wounded in one of his hands, 
because he always kept it in his pocket. Roberts asked Sir 
Partab about it, and he replied, ‘No, no! I keep my hand in my 
pocket because it is cold.’ Roberts said, ‘Take it out, and let me 
see.’ Sir Partab obeyed, and there it was, wrapped in a dirty, 
blood-stained rag, quickly mortifying from a bad bullet-wound. 
Sir Partab had said nothing about it, because he was afraid of 
being sent to hospital, or at least out of the fighting, which he 
simply loved. 

Sir Partab was extremely kind to my brother Charlie and his 
wife when they were in India. He was in every way a splendid 
individual. He often rode pig-sticking with a club instead of a 
spear; and on one occasion, armed only with a dagger, he went 
into a cave in which was a panther, and killed it. 

It is well known that Lord Roberts had a great aversion to 
cats, and disliked being in a room with one, even if he could 
not see it. I once saw this very well exemplified. After the South 
African War, he visited Nottingham to attend a parade of men 
who had served in the campaign, and to present them with 
medals. I was standing next to him, when I noticed that he 
seemed to become suddenly uneasy. He was about to give a 
medal to one of the men, when the recipient unbuttoned his 
coat, and out popped the head of a kitten. Lord Roberts sprang 
back, treading heavily on my toe; but he quickly pulled himself 
together, and presented the man with his medal. Everyone was 
much annoyed by the man’s foolish, indeed disgraceful, con- 

My brother Charlie, who was one of the garrison of Mafeking, 
sent me a set of Mafeking stamps, which have since been 
mounted in the lid of a silver box. Two of them show the head of 
Baden-Powell instead of the Queen’s head; and I believe this 


gave rise to a certain amount of criticism in England at the time. 
Not long ago I showed these stamps to General Sir Alexander 
Godley, who was also one of the garrison at Mafeking, and he 
said he would explain all the facts about them. A few days later, 
he sent me the following extract, which he wrote for TTie Piper 
of Pax, by E, K. Wade (G. Arthur Pearson Ltd., 1924), pp. 
^35“^- I glad to draw attention to it, in view of the false 
statements which were current at the time. 

‘I had frequently to go from my outpost headquarters west of 
the town to see Colonel Lord Edward Cecil (Lord Baden- 
Powell’s Chief Staff Officer), and upon one occasion when I did 
so found the Postmaster with him, and they told me that they 
were going to surcharge the ordinary Government stamps with 
“Mafeking Besieged”. As we all were always trying to think of 
anything that could be done to create interest or amuse or keep 
up the spirits of the garrison, I of course said at once that I 
thought this was an excellent idea, and one of us — I cannot in 
the least remember who — suggested that we should have a 
special stamp of our own, which we all again agreed would be a 
good idea. This led to a discussion as to what it should be like or 
what should be on it, and one of us three — I could not say 
which — said (more in joke than anything else, and solely with 
the idea in our mind of doing something that would amuse the 
garrison) — “Oh, B.-P.’s head of course!” and my recollection is 
that Lord Edward and the Postmaster then arranged to have 
this done entirely as what would now be called a “stunt” and as 
a surprise to General B.-P. and certainly without consulting 
him. I am quite sure that he never was consulted on this subject, 
and that he was rather horrified when he found it had been 
done. I am afraid that none of us thought that it might in 
any way be misinterpreted or even that these special stamps 
would get abroad, as they were to be issued purely for use in the 
town.’ So that is the explanation of a trivial matter, which 
caused a certain amount of unfavourable criticism. 

Charlie brought home a number of shells which fell in 
Mafeking, and also a specimen of the daily ration, consisting of 


a cake of coarse bread, a handful of meal and a slice of sausage, 
upon which the defenders lived and fought for at least two 
months of the 212 days’ siege. His dog, Podger, was with him aU 
the time. Towards the end, Podger grew terribly suspicious of 
the natives, who had long since killed and eaten all the other 
dogs in the town. When Charlie returned to England, he 
brought Podger with him. He accompanied Charlie to a re- 
ception at Worksop, and I began telling someone about his 
history, when Charlie nudged me and whispered, ‘Shut up, you 
idiot! I had to smuggle him into England. Don’t give us both 

Before the War, the Red Cross nurses of the County, of whom 
Lady Galway was Commandant, held a large gathering in 
Welbeck Park every summer, when they competed for cups 
given by myself and others. One year they were inspected by an 
Irish military doctor from York. I accompanied him on his 
round of the various detachments, and he amused me by saying 
to each group, ‘Well, ladies, the time at my disposal is so short 
that I can form Httle or no opinion on your efficiency; but, col- 
lectively and individually’ — ^here he fixed his eyes on the 
prettiest he could see — ‘you look awfully nice.’ Later, when 
they had had tea in the Riding School to the number of a thou- 
sand or more, he made exactly the same remark to the whole 
party; and I must say I agreed with him. The gathering was 
held for the last time only a few days before War was declared 
in 19145 3 ,nd they very soon proved themselves to be ‘collec- 
tively and individually’, not only ‘awfully nice’, but efficient and 
self-sacrificing to the point of heroism. 

I regret that I was never acquainted with General Plumer; 
but I have a vivid recollection of seeing him on the doorstep of 
Welbeck, three or four days after the declaration of war in 1914. 
He was then in command at York, and somebody said to me, ‘Why 
don’t they send old Plumer out? He’s one of the best Generals 
we have’ — as indeed he proved himself to be, long before the 
end of the War. I was particularly interested to see him, as my 
old friend Weston Jarvis, had served under him during his 


attempt to relieve the Garrison at Mafeking, of whom my brother 
GharHe was one. 

Ten days after war had been declared, Lord Kitchener 
dined with us in Grosvenor Square, in company with Admiral 
Prince Louis of Battenberg, the Marquis de Several, and one 
or two others. I asked him how long he thought the War would 
last, and he said, T think for four years.’ Everyone present was 
surprised and dismayed at his prediction, and asked him why 
he thought so. He replied, ‘Because we have as yet no army 
with which to defeat the enemy. All we can do is to fight as 
hard as we can, to avoid being defeated. Our army will be 
larger in two years, larger still in three, and in four years’ time I 
hope, and think, it will be strong enough to win the War. In 
fact we must win, or there will be an end of the British Empire. 
There is no alternative.’ 

Early in November, after the Battle of the Marne, he was 
again one of the same party. In answer to a question he said, ‘If 
I had thought, when I was here in August, that our position 
now would be even as favourable as it is, I confess I should have 
been a much happier man. As to the duration of the War, I 
have not changed my mind by a single day.’ He again said, ‘I 
feel sure that, however long it may last, we shall win in the end. 
The Germans might have won if their first attack had been 
successful; but, thank goodness, the Batde of the Marne has 
completely changed the outlook.’ 

K. of K. was very often our guest at both Welbeck and Lang- 
well. We often met him, too, at other coimtry houses, and he 
always seemed specially happy when he was staying with Mr. 
and Mrs. W.‘ H. Grenfell, now Lord and Lady Desborough, at 
Taplow or Panshanger. He dehghted in spending the afternoon 
with their two elder sons — both, alas, killed quite at the begin- 
ning of the War. I have already referred to them, and to their 
splendid characters, in Chapter III. I remember that K. asked 
one of them, when a child, ‘What do you like best in the world ? 
and was given the very excellent answer, ‘My meals 1’ 

Among the many meetings I have attended in Nottingham, 


none is impressed more deeply in my memory than that, at 
which I took the chair, when a testimonial and presents were 
given to Captain Albert Ball, who was home on short leave 
from the War, where he had become the most renowned 
airman — ^perhaps ‘ace’ is the proper term to use — ^in the British 
Army. At the age of twenty-one, he had already gained the 
Victoria Cross, the D.S.O. with two bars, and every other 
possible honour. 

I have heard that, in F ranee, he was having a day off and a well- 
deserved rest in bed, when someone told him a famous German 
air-ace was out, and had killed one of our airmen. Young Ball 
at once jumped up, started his plane, caught the German, killed 
him, and then returned to bed, still in his pyjamas. 

I was greatly struck by the simplicity and charming modesty 
which he showed during the meeting. It lasted for some time, 
with many speeches and songs, and he whispered, ‘I do wish 
my turn would come. I’d sooner fight any number of Germans 
than this!’ When the time came, he made a delightful Httle 
speech, ending with this: ‘Perhaps you would like to know what 
I do when I am not flying. Well, I garden a bit. But I’m not 
very good at it yet, as the only thing I have grown is a vegetable- 
marrow, and my pet goat ate that!’ Alas, when his leave was 
over he returned to the Front, and was very soon killed. A 
fine memorial has been erected to him in the grounds of 
Nottingham Castle. Long may it remain there, to his glorious 
memory, and as an example to the young men who foUow him. 

In common with other parents, we of course felt much 
anxiety after the departure to the War of our elder son. Titch- 
field left London on August 14th, 1914, as a subaltern in the 
Household Cavalry (Composite Regiment). I may say that 
Michael Wemyss who married my daughter in 1918, just after 
the Armistice was declared, joined the Composite Regiment on 
October 20th and, when it was disbanded, continued his service 
in the Royal Horse Guards. Captain Turner^ and Titchfield 
were the only officers who went out on August 14th with C 

^Captain Turner was unfortunately killed in a motor accident a few years ago. 


REGIMENT) FOR THE GREAT WAR, August 14th, 1914 
L.-Cpl. Eason, Trooper Ogglesby, 2nd Lt. the Marquess of Titchfield 

Squadron R.H.G. who survived the War: so indeed we have 
cause to be thankful to God. 

The Composite Regiment consisted of picked officers and 
men of the three Household Cavalry Regiments — the ist and 
2nd Life Guards and the Royal Horse Guards (Blues). After the 
death of Lt.-Golonel R. Cook, ist Life Guards, who was in com- 
mand when the Regiment left England, and the disablement of 
the second-in-command. Colonel Trotter, 2nd Life Guards, at 
Messines, it was commanded by Lord Crichton, the eldest son 
of the Earl of Erne, who was then a Major in the Royal Horse 
Guards, and was in command of the Blues Squadron. The 
Regiment formed a unit of the Expeditionary Force which took 
part in the famous retreat from Mons, and was, therefore, 
in much heavy fighting at the beginning of the Great War, 
one of the chief engagements being a very severe battle out- 
side the village of Wytschaete. Captain Bowlby and Titchfield 
held a trench just outside the village, and on their right 
flank was another trench occupied by men under the com- 
mand of Captain the Hon. Edward Wyndham of the ist Life 
Guards. The following is Titchfield’s account of that eventful 

‘At about 1 1 p.m. on October 31st, the Germans put in a very 
heavy attack. I think the troops were the loth and 22nd 
Bavarians. We had sighted our trenches about thirty yards in 
front of a line of rather mean houses on the west side of Wyt- 
schaete village, and about 150 yards from a wood. At 1 1 p.m., 
after a very short preliminary bombardment, the Germans 
(loth Bavarians) deployed from the wood, and attacked our 
position in column of platoons. It was a wonderful sight to see 
them come over the bit of open, ploughed field, with their rifles 
carried at the trail, and bayonets fixed. They advanced with the 
most perfect discipline, in short rushes; and we could hear the 
officers’ whisdes, as each platoon made its twenty or thirty 
yards’ advance. 

^It should be remembered that these notes were written more than twenty years 
after the events they describe; and they may therefore contain minor inaccuracies. 



‘The first wave never got nearer than thirty yards from our 
parapet, as our men were quite unshaken by the rather in- 
accurate bombardment. It was a bright, moonlight night; and 
about eighty yards in front of my trench a small farm-shed, in 
which I had had a patrol under a Corporal all day, was blazing 

‘The first attack melted away before it could reach our 
trench. Our men fought magnificently. They were the old 
Regulars, and were firing, I should say, at the rate of 15—17 
rounds per minute. Their fire was not only very fast, but it was 
above all disciplined, and every shot was coolly aimed. We had 
one machine-gun ; but after its first belt had been fired, a bullet 
pierced the water-jacket, the barrel grew red-hot, and it jammed 
up hopelessly. 

‘Under our fire, the first wave just melted away; but the 
second wave leapfrogged through the first, gained our trench, 
and a sharp bayonet fight ensued. This lasted only a short time. 
G Squadron (Royal Horse Guards) held its position for about 
twenty minutes, when we found — through information brought 
most gallantly by Corporal Eason,^ who was badly wounded in 
the right arm from a revolver fired at close range by a German 
officer, whom he killed with his bayonet — that the Germans 
had turned our left flank, held by the 53rd Sikhs (Wild’s Rifles), 
who had fought most gallantly. Without much difficulty we 
managed to creep away; but I lost touch with the others in the 
dark, and went to a windmill a little behind, and rather to the 
left of, my original position. As I had no orders, I thought it 
would be a good position to hold. 

‘When I had been there for about ten minutes, I was attacked 
again by some Germans, I should think about the strength of a 
weak Company; and, after firing ten rounds per man at very 
short range, I retreated to the centre of the village, where I met 
Lord Crichton by himself with a trooper’s horse. I asked him 
what he wanted me to do, and he told me to rejoin Captain 
Bowlby, my Squadron Leader, who was with the remainder of 

^Corporal Eason was awarded the D.G.M. 

2 IQ 

the Squadron, digging in at the east entrance of the village. He 
informed me that the Lincolns, the Northumberland Fusiliers, 
the London Scottish and the 5th Cavalry Brigade would be up 
in support very shortly, and that he himself was going to tell B 
Squadron (Captain Gurney), which had just counter-attacked 
and retaken a trench, to get into touch with our right flank. I 
then left him, with my twenty or thirty men, to rejoin Captain 
Bowlby. He mounted the horse, and was never seen again. He 
must have been either shot or bayoneted quite a few minutes 
after he had given me my orders.^ 

‘At about 1.30 a.m., the promised reinforcements arrived; 
and, after digging in all night, at 5.30 in the morning we were 
ordered to retake the village. The Lincolns and Northumber- 
land Fusihers managed to reach the centre of the village, the 
5th Cavalry Brigade attacked on our left, and (as far as I can 
remember) the London Scottish on our right. My Squadron was 
in reserve, in support of the Northumberland Fusihers. We 
reached the outskirts of the village; but, owing to the heavy 
rifle and machine-gun fire, we could go no further. By one 
o’clock on November ist, we were told to retire to some high 
ground about a quarter of a mile east of the village; and, after 
digging in again there, we were reheved by the French at about 
five o’clock.’ 

A few years after the War, Ivy and Titchfield paid a visit to 
Count Godard Bentinck at Amerongen in Holland. Godard’s 
daughter had married Captain Von Ilsemann, Equerry to the 
German Emperor, who became Godard’s guest at Amerongen 
when he fled to Holland after the final defeat of his Army in 
1918. In the course of conversation, Titchfield mentioned the 
serious fighting at Wytschaete, and related how the German 
troops had forced him and his men out of the trench. Von 
Ilsemann pricked up his ears and said, was an A.D.G. in the 
Regiment which forced you from the trench. You and your men 
belonged to the Guard Cavalry. Is not that so?’ ‘Gk)od God! 
How did you know that?’ asked'Titchfield^ ‘Because we found 

^After the War his body was found close to Wytschaete. 


the bodies of some of them in the trench, and buried them the 
next morning.’ Titchfield then said, ‘Perhaps you can explain 
one thing to me, for I have never understood why you didn’t 
attack again. If you had done so, you could have forced your 
way through the Hne and gone on to the Channel Ports, or 
anywhere else, for we had no reserves; but you only had till 
five o’clock to do it, because the French came up then. Why 
didn’t you attack?’ Von Ilsemann replied, ‘Because our men 
had had quite enough of it.’ The next day he showed Titchfield 
his field note-book, in which he had written the time when he 
reached different points, the last of which was the trench held 
by the Composite Regiment, of which the Blues were a unit, 
outside Wytschaete. He said, ‘The reason we did not attack 
again was that you had killed such a great number of our men 
with your machine-gun fire, that the rest were unwilling to 
advance any further.’ ‘Machine-gun fire!’ said Titchfield, ‘why, 
we only had one machine-gun; and that got jammed before it 
had been in action five minutes.’ What the Germans believed to 
be machine-gun fire was the rapid rifle fire, in which our men 
had been carefully trained and were quite unequalled by the 
enemy. I think it is a wonderful coincidence that these two 
young men should have been in the same trench, possibly 
touching one another, and afterwards have met as friends 
at dinner. 

Von Ilsemann said that, while he was recovering from a 
wound, the Kaiser visited the hospital. H.I.M. afterwards ap- 
pointed him to his Staff and made him his confidential and 
trusted A.D.C., which he has been ever since. 

Shortly after the fight at Wytschaete, Titchfield met with an 
accident and was invalided home. When he recovered. Sir 
Julian Byng, afterwards Lord Byng of Vimy, took him on his 
Staff — ^his former A.D.G., Captain Bigge, a son of Lord Stam- 
fbrdham, secretary to Queen Victoria and King George, 
having been killed. Titchfield joined Byng in the vicinity of 
Ypres, and was there with him during the extremely heavy' 
fighting. Byng spent much of his time in the front trenches. He 


made a habit of doing so every day, and nearly every night. He 
was especially fond of visiting them at night, when he pro- 
ceeded at the slowest possible walk, of course at the imminent 
risk of his life. Titchfield says he found it nerve-shattering work, 
and he was always very glad indeed when it was over and they 
were back in their quarters — not safely back, however, for even 
then they were often heavily bombarded. 

So much for the personal courage of one of the leading 
Generals, as seen by an eye-witness, not only once but on innu- 
merable occasions. And yet, on page 3424 of his War Memories^ 
Mr. Lloyd George sneers at ‘the solicitude with which most 
Generals in high places . . . avoided personal jeopardy’. I am 
not personally concerned with his aspersions upon other 
Generals ; none the less I am sure they are untrue, for it is ridicu- 
lous to suppose that these officers could have attained to their 
responsible positions without having experience of every kind of 
warfare and of its perils, whether in the Great War or in pre- 
vious campaigns. Surely, in any case, if Mr. Lloyd George has 
the courage of his convictions, he should have made his coward- 
ly statements while the Generals were alive, and not have waited 
until most of them are dead and powerless to refute them. 
Surely too he would have done well to remember the old pre- 
cept, de mortuis nil nisi bonum\ to which, in this case, might per- 
tinently be added et verum as well. 

While he was on Byng’s Staff, Titchfield was sometimes sent 
to Boulogne to buy fish for the mess ; and there he again met Ivy 
Gordon-Lennox, who was assisting her mother with hospital 
work, and whom he had known all his life. He fortunately be- 
came engaged to Ivy; and, when a lull in the fighting occurred, 
Byng gave him leave to come home to be married. A very few 
weeks after the wedding, Byng received command of a Division 
at the Dardanelles, and telegraphed to Titchfield, who was then 
at Langwell, asking him to come out as soon as he could. 
Titchfield, of course, said he would join him at once; and he 
was with him until the evacuation. 

The dug-out accommodation on the Peninsula was very bad, 


even for senior officers; so Titchfield and Byng’s other A.D.C., 
Basil Brooke, hearing that a consignment of wood and sandbags 
had been landed, determined to make their General more com- 
fortable. They planned that Brooke should take the General up 
to the Line and keep him there as long as possible, while Titch- 
field and a working party built a fine new dug-out with a win- 
dow, as fast as they could. This was successfully carried out. But 
alas, a few hours later, Titchfield returned to the scene of his 
labours, and to his dismay found the General, in his shirt- 
sleeves, furiously pulling down the new dug-out, which had 
taken twenty men four or five hours to build. Titchfield pro- 
tested; but the General replied, T’m damned if I’m going to be 
better housed than the men up in the front fine.’ However, in 
due course the dug-out was rebuilt; so the A.D.G.’s wbre 
victorious after all. 

Titchfield sends me the following story, which I give in his 
own words: 

‘At about 9 o’clock one evening, we heard heavy firing from 
Chocolate Hill, and the General told me to go down to the 
Signal Office, to see whether any message had arrived from that 
part of the Line. The officer on duty told me that no message 
had been received. I reported this to the General, and he said in 
his slow way, “Oh, well: there’s no need for a panic. I expect 
it’s only Bardie (Lord Tullibardine, now the Duke of Athol) 
trying to prevent Simon Lovat from landing.” The Scottish 
Horse, of which TuUibardine was in command, had landed the 
night before; and Lovat’s Scouts were due to disembark that 

One day the men of the Scottish Horse were heard loudly 
cheering. Byng remarked, ‘I wonder why they are so excited.’ 
‘Shall I go and find out?’ asked Titchfield. ‘No, I don’t think it’s 
worth while,’ replied Byng; ‘I expect it’s only because they’ve 
found some bawbees in a dead Turk’s breeches-pocket.’ 

When Byng commanded the lyth Army Corps, Titchfield 
again served on his Staff for a short time. When they were near 
the Church of St. Eloi, they came in for a severe shelling. 


Titchfield, who was then only twenty-three, suffered badly from 
shell-shock; and after waiting six weeks to see whether he grew 
any better, Byng sent him home for treatment. The Board be- 
fore which he appeared expressed the opinion that it would be a 
very long time before he was fit; so that was the end of his ser- 
vice at the front. 

As is well known. Sir Julian commanded the 3rd Army, 
and was later created Viscount Byng of Vimy. Later still he 
became a very popular and successful Governor-General of 
Canada, and after his term of office he was appointed Com- 
missioner of Police in London, and subsequendy a Field- Mar- 
shal. He was altogether a remarkable man, a first-rate soldier, 
and a charming companion, with a great sense of humour. 
Titchfield says he never saw him out of temper, and that he was 
in every way a delighful chief to serve. 

During the last year of the War, several thousand young, 
eighteen-year-old recruits were encamped in Welbeck Park. 
General Sir John Maxwell came to inspect them; and, th.e day 
being very wet and stormy, I invited them to occupy the riding 
school. I accompanied Sir John on his tour of inspection, and 
he said to one of the youths, ‘Well, my lad, are you looking for- 
ward to going out to France?’ To our surprise, the recruit replied, 
‘Noa!’ Sir John asked him why not, and he said, ‘Because I’m 
afeared.’ ‘What are you afraid of?’ ‘They Germans.’ ‘Why?’ 
‘Because they be bigger men than Oi!’ At this point there were 
roars of laughter from the lad’s comrades ; and, as we walked 
away. Sir John remarked, ‘I don’t believe that chap’s afraid 
of anything in the world. I expect he said what he did for a bet, or 
because the other fellows dared him to puU my leg. I’ve asked 
thousands of young men the same question, but I’ve never had 
that answer before!’ I may add that, when I was the guest of Sir 
WiUiam Robertson at Cologne in 1919, I had the pleasure of 
inspecting some of these young soldiers. They did not go abroad 
until the fighting was over ; so very happily none of them lost 
their lives, and I hope they were all the better for the experience. 

In May, 1919, before peace was formally signed, F.M. Sir 


WilKam Robertson, who commanded the British Army on the 
Rhine, most kindly invited B. Carr and me to be his guests for a 
fortnight at Cologne. We had a very interesting time indeed. 
In company with Sir WiUiam, we visited the outposts of the 
British Army in the neighbourhood of Cologne. We also visited 
Coblenz, which was then the headquarters of the American Army. 
There we had the curious experience of going by motor car to 
the top of the great fortress ofEhrenbreitstein, immediately after 
its evacuation by the American garrison, which had gone to the 
boundary of the bridge head. An enormous Stars and Stripes, 
specially made for the purpose, flew from the flagstaff at the top. 
I had often seen the fortress when travelling ; but I never thought 
that one day I should go to the top of it in a British motor car 
flying the Union Jack, under cover of the American Stars and 

.We were accompanied from Cologne to Coblenz by Colonel 
X, liaison officer between the American and British Head- 
quarters. Sir WiUiam told us he had overheard an amusing con- 
versation on the telephone between this officer and the American 
Headquarters. Colonel X began by saying, T have been re- 
quested by Sir William Robertson to bring two friends over to- 
day, and he hopes you will give them luncheon.’* ‘Who are they?’ 
‘One of them is the Marquess of SoUisburry.’ ‘Who’s he?’ ‘The 
Marquess of SoUisburry is a member of the EngUsh House of 
Lords, and is the son of the great Premi^p^ of the Victorian e-m.’ 
‘Very weU. Who’s the other?’ ‘The Duke of Portland.’ ‘And 
who’s he?’ ‘He’s one of England’s premi^^ mag-na^ej.’ Sir 
WiUiam promptly nicknamed me ‘the magnate’, and called me 
so ever after. 

We motored through Bonn, where the American zone of 
occupation began. We were proceeding at a good pace when a 
man, armed with a rifle and six-shooter and riding a motor 
bicycle, overtook us, puUed up, and said, ‘Who are you? You’re 
exceeding the speed Umit by many a mile, and my orders are 
to stop any car that does so.’ Our friend then intervened,. and 
said, ‘I am Colonel X of the American Army, liaison officer at 


British Headquarters/ ‘I can’t help that, sir’, was the reply — ‘I 
have to obey orders. Are you coming back this way?’ ‘That’s 
no business of yours,’ said Colonel X. The man, without any 
salute, then mounted his motor bicycle, and away he went. I 
asked Colonel X what he would have done if we had failed to 
stop. ‘Shot us, of course,’ was his reply. 

We arrived at Headquarters, and were most hospitably en- 
tertained. When we were offered the usual refresher before 
luncheon, our friend advised us to take it — ‘for you’ll get no- 
thing of that sort during luncheon,’ he said, ‘but only water.’ 
We had a most interesting time, and returned down the Rhine 
in a British gunboat which was stationed at Cologne to patrol 
the river. On our way we passed many enormous barges, some 
of which had come from Holland. It was amusing to watch 
the demeanour of their crews. Most of them saluted the White 
Ensign with all due ceremony; but one fat woman leaned over, 
slapped her behind as we passed, and then hurriedly dived 
down the hatchway. 

We attended the opera at Cologne; and it was interesting to 
see the attitude taken by the inhabitzints towards the English. 
They were all most respectful, though of course not genial; and 
Sir William told me they gave him no trouble, and quite imder- 
stood the situation. The British soldiers seemed to get on with 
them very well indeed, and to be most popular among the 
women and children. 

We motored back to Calais through Brussels and Ypres. We 
were in Ypres on the day upon which peace was signed, when 
the garrison attended a service of thanksgiving. During the ser- 
vice a telegram arrived, announcing the destruction of the 
German Fleet at Scapa Flow, which caused much excitement 
and some anxiety as to its effect upon the Peace Treaty so lately 



F rom time to time we have had the good fortune to entertain 
as our guests at Welbeck some of the most distinguished 
portrait painters and artists of their time. The first whom 
I caU to memory was Mr. (afterwards Sir) J. J. Shannon, R A. 
He painted a full-length portrait of my wife as Miss Dallas- 
Yorke, and the picture was presented to me by my English 
tenants as a wedding gift. Mr. Shannon was a very clever and 
fashionable portrait painter. He painted a beautiful picture of 
the Duchess of Rutland and her children, and I remember also 
a fine picture of H.R.H. the Duchess of Connaught. He remained 
our friend until his death. 

After Shannon painted my wife, the then fashionable artist 
Ellis Roberts drew a full-length picture of her in pastel, as he 
had done of many of the ladies of the time — I think, among 
others, of Ettie Desborough and Mrs. Laurence Drummond. 
Ellis Robert’s work is really very attractive, and many of the 
attitudes in which he depicted his sitters seem somewhat in the 
manner of Sir Thomas Lawrence. 

John S. Sargent, R.A., who is considered by many to be per- 
haps the greatest portrait painter since Sir Joshua Reynolds and 
Sir Thomas Lawrence, was also an intimate and valued friend of 
ours. In 1902 he stayed with us for nearly a month, and during 
that time he painted the well-known picture of my wife. His 
first attempt did not at all satisfy him, as he thought he had 
failed to reproduce the character of his sitter, nor could he make 
the work move^ as he termed it, or live. This caused him great 
annoyance, and very often he filled his brush with paint and 


then rushed at the picture, muttering strange Spanish oaths. 
After sitting to him for about a fortnight, my wife came down 
one morning to find a clean canvas on the easel, and the re- 
mains of the picture he had painted slashed right across and 
lying in a corner of the room. She was so much overcome with 
fatigue and disappointment that she burst into tears; but 
Sargent reassured her by saying, know you so well now that, 
if only you wifi, let me try again, I am quite sure I can paint 
something “alive”, which will be a credit to myself and satis- 
factory to you and your family as well. So pray forgive me, and 
let me have at least another chance.’ He then altered her pose, 
and painted the picture reproduced on Plate 90. He worked 
in the Gobelins Tapestry Room, and my wife stood against the 
marble mantelpiece. The picture simply flowed along, and in a 
very short time was completed. When it was finished the canvas 
remained in the empty room, and one of our friends — ^Lady 
Helen Vincent, now Lady D’Abernon — ^who happened to look 
through the window, tapped on the glass and called my wife’s 
name. Later in the day she met my wife and asked her, ‘Why 
were you so haughty this morning, and wouldn’t answer when 
I tapped on the window?’ Sargent was very pleased when he 
heard of this. 

Two years before, Sargent had painted a picture of me with 
my two collies, which I venture also to reproduce. While at 
work upon it he used one of the underground rooms as his 
studio. The names of the collies were Ben and Queen. Ben was a 
fairly good sitter (or rather stander), especially if I had a biscuit 
concealed in the palm of my hand ; but when it came to Queen’s 
turn nothing would induce her to stand up — she always 
flopped down at my feet. One morning, in the absence of 
Queen, Ben was brought down for the artist to complete his 
portrait. When he came into the room Sargent and I were talk- 
ing, and to our horror we saw Ben go to the picture and, with- 
out a moment’s hesitation, salute the comer of it in the way 
dogs usually do when they wish to p 3 ’y 3 - compliment or to 
recognise a firiend. Sargent said to me, ‘Well, that is either the 


greatest insult or the greatest compliment an artist has ever been 
paid !’ ‘A compliment, of course,’ I replied. ‘It is so lifelike that 
he thought it was his friend lying on the floor.’ The fore- 
shortening of Queen’s body is considered, I believe, to be a tour 
deforce; for when the picture is seen at close quarters, the figure 
appears to be a mere bundle of hair; but at a little distance it is 
found to be a most beautifully painted picture of a recumbent 

Sargent was continually making rapid sketches in pen and 
^ pencil on odd pieces of paper. These scraps are most interesting, 
and, judging by the prices others of the same sort have fetched, 
are now of considerable monetary value. He was also a beautiful 
musician, and when not painting or scribbling he delighted in 
playing the piano. He took particular pleasure in playing duets 
with Miss Alice Grenfell, now Lady Mildmay of Flete, who was 
also an accompHshed pianist. Sargent was in every way a most 
attractive and charming man. Later on he drew excellent char- 
coal sketches of many well-known people, including my wife 
and my daughter Victoria. Before commencing work on these, 
he wrote to me as follows: 

31, Tite Street, 

Chelsea, S.W, 

14 Feb. 1910 

... I will be dehghted to do the drawings for you. ... In the 
case of Her Grace I confess to a misgiving that one of these 
quick drawings is not Hkely to come as near the mark as her 
portrait, and that I ought not to go in for it, if your hope is that 
I shall beat that record. . . .’ 

All I can say is that he made these drawings, much to our 

Mr. Phihp de Laszld, who was ennobled as Laszlo de Lombos by 
the Emperor of Austria, has often been our welcome guest at Wel- 
beck, Langwell and. Grosvenor Square ; and he has painted por- 
traits of all the members of my family. He began by painting two 
pictures of me. The first canvas did not satisjfy him, so he said, ‘Now 


with Ben and, Qu®cn 
(J. S. Sargent, 1900) 

(J. S. Sargent) 

that I know you so well, I hope you will give me further sittings ; 
for this is a posed portrait, and I am sure I can paint one that 
will be much more simple and characteristic.’ Later on he 
gave to my wife a charcoal sketch, which we aU much Hke and 
consider the best portrait of me that has ever been drawn (see 
the frontispiece) . His next sitter was my daughter, and of her he 
also painted two pictures. In the first she is wearing a large 
‘picture’ hat. This he did not Hke at all, and he afterwards 
painted another which gives me great pleasure, as I think it is a 
most excellent likeness. He then painted a portrait of EHsalex de 
Baillet, which I gave to her mother Princess Clary and two 
pictures of my wife. The second of these, which he presented to 
us as a Silver Wedding present, he described as ‘a frivolous 
picture, with a mischievous and amusing expression’. It was at 
an exhibition in Brussels when the Great War broke out, and 
remained there until after the Armistice, when it was safely 
returned. He also painted a full-length pictinre of my elder 
son, Titchfield, in his uniform as a Lieutenant in the Royal 
Horse Guards (Blues). This picture was presented to Titch- 
field in April, 1914, when he came of age, by the tenants of 
my estates in England and Scotland. De Laszl6 subsequently 
paid us a visit at Langwell — ^where, incidentally, he went deer- 
stalking and was terribly bitten by midges — and there he 
painted a portrait of my second son Morven, as a schoolboy, 
also a head of my wife, and an excellent portrait of our good old 
friend Major George Baker-Carr. 

Some time after the War, I was extremely anxious that my 
wife should be painted by de Laszlo in the dress which she wore 
when attending a Court as Mistress of the Robes to Queen 
Alexandra ; but for some time she found herself unable to give 
him the necessary sittings. However, when the Queen of the 
Belgians was our guest at Welbeck, H.M. expressed a wish to be 
painted by de Laszl6. We invited him there to paint H.M., and 
on the first evening after his arrival I begged my wife to appear 

’J. S. Sargent, early in his career, painted a very fine portrait of Princess Clary, 
which I also reproduce. 


in the costume and headdress in which she had attended the 
Court. She did so, and the moment de Laszl6 saw her he rushed 
forward exclaiming, ‘Ah! Madame la Duchesse, I must paint 
you! I must paint you like that! Sit down at once!’ But as we 
were about to go in to dinner, he had to subdue his ardour for 
the time being. He painted a picture of the Queen ; and then, in 
as few as five or six sittings, he finished that of my wife (Plate 
129), which I think is not only the most lifelike and pleasing 
portrait I have ever seen of her, but perhaps one of the best 
of all his pictures. Most of my friends agree with me in this 
opinion, and I believe de Laszl6, too, places it among his most 
successful works. De Laszlo has always been very kind to us, 
and I much value his friendship. The room in which his portraits 
are hung is named by him the Laszlo Room. In order to make it 
complete he painted a very excellent picture of himself, which he 
gave to me, and for which I am most grateful. It now hangs there, 
crowning his other works. He is at present painting a picture 
of me in Coronation robes, and of my page, Andrew Wemyss. 

Sargent and de Laszlo painted their pictures in the Swan 
Drawing-room and both of them greatly admired the striking 
portrait of Lord Richard Cavendish by Sir Joshua Reynolds, 
which hangs in that room. It was then covered with bitumen, 
but has now been most skilfully cleaned by Mr. W. A. Holder, 
and can be seen in all its glory. 

Mr. Richard Jack, R.A., was also at Welbeck. He painted 
my portrait in Garter robes for the Provincial Grand Lodge of 
Nottinghamshire, of which I had the honour to be Grand Master 
for more than thirty years,^ and it now hangs in the Masonic Hall 
in Nottingham. Herman Herkomer, the nephew of Sir Hubert 
Herkomer, was also our guest, as, at different times, were the 
well-known animal painters, R. Alexander, A.R.S.A., Captain 
Charles Lutyens (father of Sir Frederick Lutyens, the eminent 
architect), and Mr. Lynwood Palmer, the excellent painter of 

Mr. Charles Whymper has also painted very good water- 

^See Appendix II. 


colour pictures of Langwell and Braemore, which I am glad to 
possess. He is a younger brother of the famous Edward Whymper, 
who was, I believe, the first to make a successful ascent of the 
Matterhorn, and had a miraculous escape from death in 1 865, 
when Lord Francis Douglas and several others were killed on 
that mountain. Mr. Whymper told me that he once asked his 
brother to take him on a mountaineering expedition. ‘Before 
I promise to do so,’ said his brother, ‘get out of the window 
and walk along that ledge.’ Whymper hastily declined. ‘Then’, 
said his brother, ‘I’m afraid I can’t take you.’ 

I must certainly not omit the name of my friend Mr. W. 
Egginton, who has for many years painted beautiful water- 
colour landscapes, many of them in Caithness and other parts 
of Scotland, for which country he seems to have a special affec- 
tion. I think Egginton’s pictures reproduce what I myself see 
when looking at Scottish scenery better, perhaps, than those of 
any other painter I know. His rendering of the movement of 
clouds seems to me wonderfully faithful to nature; and his 
paintings of sunset and storm effects are no less realistic. Mr. 
Frank Wallace has also made some excellent water-colour 
studies of deer-stalking. I think his pictures of the deer are 
wonderfully life-like and correct. Being a deer-stalker and sports- 
man himself, he is very well acquainted with the animals in 
their natural surroundings. 

Sir Alfred Gilbert paid us a visit in 1899, as it was my inten- 
tion to ask him to design two fountains for the garden at Wel- 
beck; but the plan did not materialise, and after some time M. 
Alphonse Legros^ undertook the work. In later years I became 
well acquainted and very friendly with Sir Alfred, as I have 
already explained on page 140. Though undoubtedly a man of 
moods. Sir Alfred was a most entertaining and charming com- 
panion, as well as a very great artist. Of Sir Edgar Boehm’s work 
for me, and of his connection with Sir Alfred Gilbert, I have 
already written in my book Memories of Racing and Huntings 
1935, p. 40; but I may repeat here that he executed a perfect 

^His full-size plaster models are now in the Castle Museum, at Nottingham. 


model of my great racehorse St. Simon, and another of Cre- 
morne, the property of Mr. H. Savile of Rufford, the winner 
of the Derby in 1872. 

The Italian sculptor Gavahere Ganonica of Milan was also 
our guest. He executed good busts of my wife and myself, and a 
really beautiful one of my son Morven. He spoke very little 
English, and I still less Italian. One day at luncheon I noticed 
that he was eating a large number of unripe gooseberries, so I 
said to him, ‘Pericolo ! Pericolo ! Molto dolore interno !’ indicating 
the part of his person which might be affected. ‘Dio mio !’ 
exclaimed Ganonica, and ate no more: so my warning had the 
desired effect. Much to our pleasure, we met him the last time 
we were in Venice, where he was then on a visit. 

No chapter on artists would be at all complete without 
mention of Violet Lindsay, now Violet, Duchess of Rutland; 
and I always remember with gratitude and love my lifelong 
fiiendship with her. Her mother, the Hon. Mrs. Gharles Lind- 
say, was the sister of my stepmother; and, though no blood- 
relation of mine, she is a first cousin of my half brothers and 
sister. I cannot remember the time when I did not know her, 
or when I did not admire her wonderful beauty and exquisite 
grace. Her personal charm pervades all her surroundings. She 
is a sculptress of great distinction; and her pencil portraits, some 
of which have the honour to hang in the English section of 
the Louvre, are remarkable, not only as faithful represen- 
tations of her subjects, but also for the delicate charm with 
which she endows them. Perhaps it is skating on thin ice to 
express any preference when all of them are so good; but I 
greatly admire those of Queen Victoria, from whom she had a 
special sitting, the Duchess of Leinster, and Lady Helen Vincent 
(now Lady D’Abernon), and of Lord Salisbury, Arthur Balfour, 
Gecil Rhodes and Rudyard ELipling, as shown in her Portraits of 
Men and Women, published in 1900. Queen Victoria herself 
drew a sketch of Violet, which I venture to publish. The story of 
it is as follows. Golonel Lindsay, Violet’s father, was in waiting 
at Balmoral, and H.M. invited Violet to come too. On a very 


(J. S. Sargent) 

(P. A. de Laszld, 1912) 

(P. A. de Ldszl6, 1914) 

Given to him by his father’s English and Scottish tenants 
on his twenty-first birthday , 


(P. A. de Ldszlo, 1916) (P. A. de Laszld, 1912) 

(P. A. de Laszlo, 1925) 

Drawn by H.M. Queen Victoria 
Balmoral, 1877 

(G. E. Wade, 1891) 


Welbeck, 1913 

wet day, the Queen expressed a wish to make a pencil draw- 
ing of her; and this is the happy result of Her Majesty’s skill. 
Among her works as a sculptress, the recumbent figure in the 
Chapel at Haddon Hall of her elder son. Lord Haddon, who 
died when nine years old, is an inspired work of love. The 
monument in the Mausoleum at Belvoir to her husband, the 
8th Duke of Rutland, which she superintended, is very beauti- 
ful too. 

I always feel that I owe a debt of gratitude to Violet which I 
cannot repay, for I often met my wife, then Miss Dallas-Yorke, 
in her house, where at last I ventured to put a vital question, 
and fortunately received the answer, ‘Yes.’ The Uttle matchbox 
in the form of a tortoise which Violet gave to me as a wedding- 
present is always on my writing table. If she happens to read 
these notes, as perhaps she will, she will understand and appre- 
ciate my reason for mentioning it, for on it is engraved, ‘P. Feb. 
24, 1889, from V.G.’, and in small letters below, ‘Win’. 

Lady Algernon (Blanchie) Gordon-Lennox may certainly 
be included among the artists for her skill with the needle. 
Some of her pictures in petit-point are as realistic as if they had 
been executed with the brush. She has also painted beautiful 
curtains, which she has given to her daughter Ivy Titchfield. 

Lady Bolsover was not only very fond of music, but had a 
good contralto voice, and often sang for her own or other 
people’s pleasure. She dehghted in entertaining musical guests 
— amongst others, Mrs. Godfrey Pearse, a daughter of Giuseppe 
Mario and his wife {nee Giulia Grisi), and also Mrs. Ronalds, 
whom I have already mentioned in Chapter III. I look back 
to their singing with the greatest pleasure. 

Mrs. Ronalds was a remarkable woman — ^not only for her 
glorious soprano voice, but also for her great beauty, and 
the many vicissitudes and adventures through which she had 
passed. A native of Boston, Massachusetts, she married a weal- 
thy American, Mr. Peter Ronalds ; but she foimd life in Paris, 
with her sister, more interesting than at home in New York. I 
beheve her husband commenced divorce proceedings against 



her; but it is said that the judge in the Paris court, overcome 
by her beauty, believed in her innocence and dismissed the case. 
She then had an obscure adventure, of which I heard only 
rumours, which led her either to Algiers or Tunis. Having 
returned to Paris, she found herself in somewhat deep waters ; 
but various EngUsh friends came to the rescue, and she came 
back to this country. Besides being a woman of great beauty, she 
had many gifts and great charm; so she quickly made her way 
in society, and was kindly received by, among others, the Duke 
and Duchess of Edinburgh, who were themselves great lovers 
of music. When I knew her, she had a small house in Sloane 
Street, and besides being our guest at Welbeck, often came to 
luncheon and dinner at 13 Grosvenor Place. 

M. Paderewski, the famous pianist, was twice our guest. He 
was a great friend of my wife’s mother, Mrs. Dallas-Yorke, 
a beautiful musician herself, especially as an organist. Indeed, 
the organ in Welbeck Chapel was built by Messrs. Walker 
under her personal direction. Paderewksi several times played 
the piano during his visits to Welbeck, once with such energy 
that he broke one of the hammers. He is extremely pleasant 
company, and was in those days a very good judge of thorough- 
bred horses, of which he told me that he had many in Poland. 
When we were out for a walk one day, he said, rather to my 
astonishment, ‘How I hate my damned hair ! But I have to wear 
it like this because the public have grown to expect it from my 
portraits.’ After the Great War he became, as is well known. 
President of the Polish Republic; but now he passes much of his 
time in a charming and beautifully situated villa at Morges, 
near Lausanne, where we have been his guests. 

Gervase Elwes was our guest on one occasion, and Miss Irene 
Scharrer has visited us many times, as she is a very old friend of 
Morven’s, being the wife of Mr. Lubbock, his Housemaster at 
Eton, and for a long time his instructor in music. Lady Maud 
Warrender, too, has often delighted us with her beautiful voice. 

Lord and Lady Ripon gave amusing and charming parties on 
Sunday afternoons, at Coombe, their house on Wimbledon 


Common. Queen Alexandra was often the guest of honour. 
Edouard and Jean de Reszke, Melba, Caruso, and other famous 
singers were all guests from time to time and gave of their best 
during the evening. Lord and Lady Ripon invited us to dinner 
in a small house in Grosvenor Street ; and in the evening the 
de Reszke brothers sang duets. Their united voices, one a bass 
and the other a tenor, were so powerful that they seemed almost 
to lift the ceihng from the room! Meanwhile a large crowd of 
people assembled in the street, who cheered and cheered. The 
de Reszkes were accompanied on the piano by our fiiend 
Amherst (‘Squib’) Webber, who was their travelling companion. 
He told me that he visited them one morning and found both 
the brothers singing at the top of their voices, with a small child 
seated on a table between them. ‘What in the world are you 
doing?’ asked Webber. ‘You’ll deafen the poor little creature!’ 
‘Oh! no,’ replied Edouard: ‘we’re only filUng my child with 

My friend Harry Higgins, late of the Life Guards, where he 
was nicknamed by his brother-officers ‘The Great Eastern’, 
from his height and solidity, had considerable musical know- 
ledge. For some time after leaving the Army, he helped Lord 
and Lady Ripon to manage the Opera. A famous prima donna 
with whom he was discussing the terms of an engagement, told 
him that she required a fee of five hundred guineas a night. ‘But, 
g-good God, madam!’ replied Harry, who had a slight stutter, 
‘Do you realise that I’m only asking you to s-sing?’ When telling 
me of this and his many other troubles with the performers, he 
said, ‘You might as well try to manage a p-pack of m-mad dogs !’ 



T he two best game shots I ever met were undoubtedly, in 
my opinion, the late Lord Ripon, formerly Lord de Grey, 
and Sir Harry Stonor, both wonderfully good with 
either gun or rifle. In discussing shooting it was never neces- 
sary to ask whether de Grey or Stonor was ‘in form’, for neither 
of them ever seemed to be ‘out of form’. I think Stonor, until his 
eyes unfortunately and sadly failed him, was the most graceful 
handler of a gun I ever saw, though perhaps during the day’s 
shooting he did not kill quite so much as did de Grey. I think 
de Grey killed about twenty-five birds to Stonor’s twenty ; but 
for all that, I do not believe that Stonor missed more shots than 
de Grey, if as many. 

I remember four extremely high birds passing over de Grey 
on the Groveley beat at Wilton, where the birds fly exception- 
ally high. He killed the first three quite dead, and I said to my- 
self, ‘The fourth has escaped.’ But no! — It came down quite 
as dead as the others. One remarkable thing about de Grey’s 
shooting was that one hardly ever saw a bird even flutter after 
he had fired at it. I knew him exceedingly well, for in 1882 I 
went to India with him when his father was Viceroy, and we 
shot together in Nepal and Durbimgah (see Chapter XI). He 
was very often my guest at Welbeck for partridge and pheasant 
shooting. I append a list he gave me of the game he killed be- 
tween 1867 and 1900.^ 






Tiger - 













Kg - 





De Grey, I believe, was always accurate when asked the 
amount of game he had killed, and he did not exaggerate. I 
remember quite well that after a partridge drive my agent, Mr. 
T. Warner Turner, asked him how many birds he had killed. 
He counted the empty cartridge cases, of which there were four- 
teen, and said, T have killed thirteen birds.’ Mr. Turner told 
the keeper, whose duty it was to pick up the dead game, to 
report to him the number of birds he found where de Grey had 
been shooting, and when he had done so he told Mr. Turner 
that there were thirteen. 

De Grey was a very fair shot indeed, and never wilfully took 
the birds going to another gxm; but woe betide the man who 
attempted any liberties with Am, or who, he thought, tried to 
take his birds ! I remember that a friend shot some birds which 
should have passed over de Grey. I heard de Grey caU out, ‘All 
right, Harry, ^ all right. Two can play at that game ! ’ — Bang! Bang! 
Bang ! — and very little went to Harry after that! I once had the 
ill luck to be drawn between de Grey and Stonor during a 
day’s partridge driving, and a very bad place it was too; for, 
except the birds that came straight over my head, I had little or 
no shooting. I think they were the only two guns I have constantly 
shot with who never, or at all events very rarely, varied in their 

Deer - 





Red Deer - 









Partridges - 





Pheasants - 





Woodcock - 





Snipe - 





Wild Duck - 





Black Game 























The rhinoceroses mentioned at the head of the list must be those I saw him kill 
dead, right and left, with a four-bore rifle, from the back of an elephant in Nepal. 

^It was not Harry Stonor: he would have known much better! 


accuracy; and neither of them bucked or swaggered about their 
skill. It was not at all necessary for them to do so. 

A keeper who had been accustomed to load for de Grey was 
employed to load for an American sportsman. When the 
American had missed far more birds, during a drive, than he 
had killed, he asked the loader, ‘Say, how many would Lord de 
Grey have killed?’ ‘Three times as many as you did.’ At the 
next drive he fired two barrels into the brown of a pack, and 
down came four birds. He then turned in triumph to the 
loader, and remarked, ‘I guess that beats your Lord de Grey. 
How many would he have killed with that shot?’ 

When I was travelling with de Grey in India, he advised me 
always to be very careful about what he called my ‘footwork’ 
when shooting; and he said he considered correct foot-work 
to be of the greatest importance, though it was only too often 
neglected. He said that, in order to shoot well, it was absolutely 
necessary to bring the right leg well round in firing at birds 
passing to one’s left, and vice versa\ and that, in firing at birds 
passing straight over one’s head, the feet should be in line, and 
well apart. He added — and I entirely agree — that, if one did 
not do this, one was very apt to fire behind birds, and either to 
miss them or to hit them in the tail. 

De Grey used hammer guns and black powder long after 
everyone else had given them up. He had his guns handed to 
him at full-cock, which possibly accounted for the extreme 
rapidity with which he shot. He had an extraordinarily accurate 
eye, for he was one of the best biUiard players in London, and 
more than once made a record number of nursery cannons at 
the Turf Club. He also possessed a beautiful tenor voice, though, 
unfortunately for his friends, he could very rarely be persuaded 
to sing. I have referred, in Chapter IX, to the musical parties 
his wife and he gave on Sunday evenings at their house on 
Wimbledon Common. 

It was the custom of Baron Hirsch to give large parties 
in Hungary, chiefly for partridge driving. Many friends 
remained as his guests for six weeks, and they shot every day, 


Sundays included, during their visit. Some of my friends whom 
I considered quite moderate shots became very good indeed, 
simply from the amount of practice they had while the guests of 
Baron Hirsch. De Grey and Harry Stonor were very often there. 
They were both extremely lucky when shooting, and wherever 
they were placed the game generally flew over them. I remem- 
ber, however, a partridge-drive at Glipstone when de Grey 
happened to be the right-hand gun and was stationed in a 
wood. It was an extraordinary drive, for two or three of my 
friends killed about forty birds each, and others perhaps twenty; 
but poor de Grey fired only two shots, both of them at wood- 
pigeons. For some time after, he was inclined to criticise the 
placing of the guns at Welbeck; but it was inevitable on that 
occasion, as the hedge over which the partridges were driven was 
not long enough to accommodate the whole party of seven guns, 
so the right-hand gun had to stand in the wood. 

I well remember one particular evening at Glipstone when, 
for fun, I said to Harry Stonor, ‘Well, thank goodness you’re 
the outside gun now, Harry, for you’ve had the best of the luck 
all day. I don’t think you will get much shooting this time.’ He 
replied, ‘Never mind, old fellow, you will see what will happen.’ 
And it did happen too; for in the middle of the drive was a road, 
and an old woman in a black dress suddenly appeared there, 
diverting nearly every bird from its proper course over the 
middle of the line to where Harry was standing on the flank. 
The result was that he killed thirty birds with thirty-three 
shots. My agent, Mr. Turner, who stood with him, told me 
about this really wonderful performance; for the birds flew 
very high indeed, over tall trees and a deep valley. I may say 
that Stonor never seemed hurried or flurried, but was always 
most dehberate in his manner of shooting. 

My dear friend the late Simon Lovat was a magnificent shot, 
and I certainly place him next to de Grey and Stonor. He was, 
in my opinion, very often as good as they were ; but he had his 
off days like everybody else, though not nearly so many as 
most people. One day a friend of mine, who stood next to 


Lovat, told me that he had seen him kill six birds out of one pack 
of partridges with six different shots, early in November when 
the birds were very strong; and I myself have often seen him 
kill four. These three — de Grey, Stonor and Lovat — I consider 
to be quite the best shots who have been my guests. 

In his younger days there was no keener or better bag-filler, 
except the three I have mentioned, than Lord Herbert (Bertie) 
Vane-Tempest; but latterly, though his skill remained, his 
keenness seemed to evaporate. My old friend George Harlech, 
Lord Enniskillen, Lord Berkeley Paget, and his brother Lord 
Alexander (Dandy) Paget, were all excellent shots too, as, in 
more recent years, was the late Duke of Roxburghe. So are 
Lord Elphinstone and the Hon. Evan Gharteris. Mr. Rimington- 
Wilson of Broomhead was considered by many to be the quickest 
and best shot of his time at driven grouse; and when he was my 
guest he seemed to be equally good with low-flying partridges. 
But when it came to high birds over the CKpstone valleys, or 
really high-flying pheasants, he appeared to be no better or, 
perhaps, not even so good as the others I have mentioned. 

Among the younger generation, there are many quite good 
shots who come to my parties; and of these I think Lovat’s 
nephew (and now son-in-law), the present Lord Eldon, is perhaps 
about the best. Probably there are other young men as good — I 
mention only those with whom I am personally acquainted. I 
think the lists of the so-called best shots in England, which one 
sometimes sees in the newspapers, are ridiculous. There are 
dozens of good shots all over the country, whose names never 
appear at all, and who would probably dislike it very much if 
they did so. Comparisons are odious ; and so long as my guests 
enjoy themselves, it does not much concern me whether they 
hit or miss. But I would rather they missed altogether than 
wounded the birds. 

I several times asked de Grey whom he considered the best 
shot he had ever seen, and each time, without any hesita- 
tion whatever, he replied ‘Walsingham,^ with regard to both 

^Thomas, 6th Lord Walsingham, born 1843, died 1919. 


rapidity and accuracy’. It is rather curious that Lord Walsing- 
ham was the Hon. T. de Grey before he succeeded; so the 
two best shots in England at that time were Lord de Grey and 
Tommy de Grey. Of course they were often confused. On 
August 28th, 1872, Lord Walsingham killed no less than 842 
grouse and one teal, shooting alone at Blubberhouse Moor in 
Yorkshire; and another day he killed a little over a thousand 
grouse to his own gun at the same place. Blubberhouse Moor 
is, I believe, shaped like an hour glass, and his butt was in the 
centre of the narrowest part. I never had the good luck to see 
Lord Walsingham shoot, but I have heard de Grey’s opinion 
confirmed by many of those who knew him well. He was also 
a very distinguished naturalist, and a Fellow of many learned 
Societies. An American described him as ‘the premier bug- 
hunter of Europe’ ! 

De Grey said that many years ago, during a partridge drive, 
his butt was next to that of Walsingham, who was shooting with 
muzzle-loading guns.^ De Grey suddenly saw a flash, Walsing- 
ham was covered by a dense cloud of smoke, and the butt 
caught fire. It seems that the loader was pouring black powder 
from one canister to another, when a spark from the gun 
ignited it. Walsingham was a bit singed and the loaders too, 
but no one was seriously hurt. I beheve another fire occurred 
when de Grey was in the next butt to the late Lord Wemyss 
at Studley, for grouse driving. 

De Grey told me that another very fine shot in those days 
was the then Lord Himtingfield — known to his friends as 
Josh Himtingfield— of Heveningham in Norfolk, who very 
often shot with a large cigar in his mouth. Partridge-driving 
originated, and was then mainly carried on, in the eastern 
counties. The Norfolk and Suffolk sportsmen pretended to 
despise anyone as a game shot unless he Hved in those counties. 
They soon, however, discovered their mistake when de Grey 

II asked de Grey what he thought of the rapidity of fire of muzzlc-loac^g guns, 
and he said that, with three guns and two skilled loaders, it was extraordinary how 
quickly one could shoot. 


came among them. Other first-class shots in that part of 
England were the Maharajah Duleep Singh, who owned 
Elveden, Lord Rendlesham, of Rendlesham in Suffolk, Colonel 
‘Jockey’ Custance and Sir Edward Birkbeck; and of course there 
were many more. I had the pleasure of seeing the two latter 
shoot, when I was privileged to be a guest at Sandringham. De 
Grey often told me that a son of the Rt. Hon. Ward Hunt, 
First Lord of the Admiralty, was quite a first-class shot; and, 
though I never knew him myself, I have heard this opinion 
confirmed by many who saw him shoot. 

Mr. Heatley Noble, too, was quite first-class. I once had the 
pleasure of shooting with him when Leopold Hirsch, my friend 
and tenant at Suisgill in Sutherlandshire, leased Littlecote, 
where I had two or three days’ excellent sport at high-flying 
pheasants. Littlecote was, and I believe stiU is, the property of 
the Popham family; and I twice slept in a room generally 
supposed to be haunted, though I was never so fortunate as 
to see the ghost — or perhaps unfortunate, as it might have 
spoiled my shooting on the following day if I had done so ! The 
story is this, I believe. In old days, Littlecote was the property 
of the notorious ‘Wild DayreU’. One night a midwife was sum- 
moned to the house, blindfolded, and, with the utmost secrecy, 
taken to a room where a woman lay in bed. On her way, 
the midwife counted the stairs; and when in the room, she 
managed to cut a piece from the bed-curtains. Shortly after 
she arrived, a baby came into the world, which was seized by 
Wild DayreU, who threw it on to the fire burning in an ante- 
room. DayreU was tried by Judge Popham for the murder of 
the child ; and on the evidence of the midwife, founded on the 
piece of curtain and her memory of the number of stairs, 
he was found guilty; but it is said that he bribed the judge by 
the promise to give him, or leave him, the Litdecote estate, which 
has, I beUeve, remained in the Popham family ever since. Mr. 
F. L. Popham named one of his racehorses Wild DayreU. It 
won the Derby in 18559 ridden by R. Sherwood, and I saw a 
large picture of it at Littlecote House when I was there. It was 


trained in Littlecote Park by Rickaby, a forebear, I believe, 
of the well-known jockey Rickaby who rode with much success 
for George Lambton. 

Captain Tomasson, Chief Constable of Nottinghamshire, was 
also a very good shot. He leased grouse-moors in different parts 
of Scotland, which he himself managed, while some of his 
friends shared in the expense. For many years he leased Hunt 
Hill, one of Lord Dalhousie’s fine grouse-moors in Angus, 
for which, I believe, he paid only £1500 a year, though one 
season’s bag was no less than 7000 brace of grouse. In 1887, 
shooting over dogs at Hunt Hill, Tomasson had three wonderful 
bags to his own gun: 

August 1 2th, 1887 190^ brace of grouse 

55 1 3^h5 55 186'^ ,, JJ ,, 

55 I^th, ,, 229 55 55 55 

He was a particularly good sportsman, and had great knowledge 
of all sorts of shooting, and of the habits and natural history of 

Willie Hollins, too, who used 20-bore guns, was excellent at 
driven partridges. When living at Berry HiU, near Mansfield, 
he was the tenant of my partridge-shooting at Lyndhurst, and 
the second biggest bag of partridges for one day’s shooting in 
England was obtained there.^ It is as follows: 

TQ06 Berry Hill, Mansfield 













Oct. gth 
„ loth 
„ iith 


Berry Hill 

Pleasley Hill 























Guns: W. H. Tomasson, Lord Savile, F. H. Oates, Sir G. E. 
Paget, F. E. Seely, W. G. Oates, H. Whitaker, W. 

T believe the record bag is 800 brace, and that it was made at Holkham in Nor- 
folk in the same year. 


Oct. loth 

Number of birds brought to game-cart after each drive: 
lo a.m. 1st drive 51 4th drive 102 

2nd „ 36 5th „ 131 

3rd „ 154 6th „ 218 — 692 

Lunch 1.50-2.45 p.m. 

7th drive 178 loth drive 134 

8th „ 106 nth „ 159 —695 

9th „ 1x8 1387 

Pick up 1 1 7 
Total 1504 

This is another three very good days’ sport, and later in the 

191*^ Berry Hill, Mansfield 













Oct. 31st 









Nov, ist 

Berry Hill 








Nov. 2nd 

Sutton & Kirkby 














Guns: ist day: Duke of Portland, Lord Savile, T, S. Pearson- 
Gregory, R. H. Rimington-Wilson, Rev. G. B. 
Raikes, Col. the Hon. C. Willoughby. 

2nd day: Same, with Captain Tomasson in place of 
Rev. G. B. Raikes. 

3rd day: same as 2nd, with C. H. Seely and T. W. 
Turner, less Lord Savile. 

Number of birds brought to game-cart after each drive: 

1st drive 


3rd drive 


2nd „ 


4th „ 



5th drive 99 

8th drive 


6th „ 


9th „ 

122 610 

7th » 



Pick up 1 12 

Frank Oates was another first-class shot, particularly at driven 
partridges. In fact, in those days I could get together a team of 
my neighbours, for partridge driving, which would be very hard 
to beat in anypart of the country. These were Tomasson, Hollins, 
Lord Savile, Mr. Pearson-Gregory, the Rev. C. B. Collinson and 


Mr. Frank Hall of Parkhall, near Mansfield, the latter, alas, 
being afterwards killed by a wave which broke over the liner in 
which he was returning from America. In my opinion, these 
were all absolutely first-class shots. There were many others, not 
quite so good, perhaps, but much above the average. 

When I look back at the game book I am quite ashamed of 
the enormous number of pheasants we sometimes killed. This is 
a form of shooting which I have no desire to repeat. I give one 
or two examples : 









Wild Duck 



Dec. 7th 








Guns: H.R.H. The Duke of Connaught, Lord Elphinstone, 

Lord R. Cavendish, Master of Kinnaird, Hon. E, 
Charteris, Capt. Hon. Myles Ponsonby, Hon. G. 
Lambton, Major Baker-Garr, the Duke of Portland, 
Captain H. H. Amory. 

Dec. 8 th 













Guns: The same, less the Master of Kinnaird. 

Dec. gth 


Clowne Hills 








Guns: The same, with Gen. Sir R. Pole-Carew, Mr. F. Mildmay 
and Capt. Tomasson; less the Hon. E. Charteris and 
Major Baker-Carr. 

Dec. 6th 











Guns: H.R.H. Prince Nicholas of Greece, Prince Kinsk 
Prince Loewenstein, Marquess of Ripon, Lord De 
borough, Hon. Evan Charteris, Major Baker-Cai 
Duke of Portland, Captain H. H. Amory. 



Dec. 7th 




Guns: The same, without Major Baker-Carr. 


The best form of covert shooting, in my opinion, is at cock phea- 
sants in the month of January, especially when there is a high wind 
blowing. I remember two such days particularly well, January 
2ist-22nd, 1901. There was a gale of wind blowing, with occa- 
sional snow-showers, and the birds flew splendidly. While shoot- 
ing on the 22nd, I received a telegram announcing the death of 
Queen Victoria, and I had to leave at once for London. 











Wild Duck 



Jan. 2 1 St 












Guns: Earl of Dudley, Lord Berkeley Paget, General Pole- 
Carew, Capt. Amory, Capt. Tomasson, Mr. W. 
Hollins, Mr. W. W, Hall, the Duke of Portland, 

Jan. sand 

Clowne Hills 








Guns: The same. 

Partridge driving is quite a different thing, because the birds 
are naturally bred and not hand-reared. The bags of par- 
tridges^ killed at Welbeck and Ghpstone began to increase from 

^Partridge Bags at Welbeck. 






































s , ii 9 


































i» 3 i 7 





























































































the year 1887, which was the first really good year, and we 
several times killed over two hundred brace to four guns ; but at 
that time the sport was by walking up birds in Hne. In 1894 and 
1895 partridge driving was first practised at Welbeck and Clip- 
stone. Mr. W. Hollins suggested to me that the Blue Barn beat 
should be driven over Blue Barn Lane, and this has since been 
done with great success. In 1896 partridge driving really com- 
menced. The peak year was 1929, when 3,349 brace were killed. 
In 1927 practically no partridges were shot at aU, and in 1928 
only 847 brace were killed. 1934—5 was ako an excellent season, 
when 3,268 brace of partridge were killed, and in addition, 5, 148 
pheasants, all wild birds, as none had been hand-reared for 
several years. I believe more partridges have been killed in 
recent years over Blue Bam Lane than at any other place 
in England. On one occasion no less than 270 brace, and 
several times well over 200 brace, have been killed there in 
four drives. 

On October 24th-27th, 1906, shooting the CHpstone valleys, 
Blue Barn, the Sherwood side and Elmton, eight guns — ^Lord 
Dudley, Lord Henry Bentinck, Col. H. C. Legge, Hon. J. 
Ward, Major G. Holford, Mr. H. H. Lindsay, Mr. F. Mildmay 
(one day only), the Duke of Portland and Capt. Amory — Skilled 
900, 1467, 773 and 518 partridges, a total of 3658 birds. The 
second day was a record for the estate. 

Hungarian partridges were j^t introduced in 1895. For 
several years large numbers of them were purchased and the 
result was very satisfactory in every way. About 1895, ‘remises’ 
were planted at Hill Top and on other parts of the estate, on 
the lines of similar partridge coverts and sanctuaries in Hungary. 
For the last four years partridges have been fed in the winter, 
which has proved very beneficial, as it causes the hen birds to 
be in good health, and therefore prolific, during the ensuing 

I consider that driven partridges, especially over the flood- 
dykes at Clipstone, provide the acme of good sport. As many as 
400 brace have been killed there in a day. Some of them fly so 


high that a Langwell keeper who was a spectator told his 
friends that the Clipstone partridges seemed to be ‘nowt but 
wee bit sparrows flying across the valleys’. I believe that birds 
seldom fly so high as to be really out of shot, but I have seen 
both de Grey and Harry Stonor fail to kill some of the Clipstone 
partridges — I mean those flying over the highest stand ; and if 
neither of them could do it, then I think the birds must have 
been out of shot. 

I killed a very high-flying partridge at Clipstone, and to 
my surprise it disappeared down the water-pipe of a house, 
where there was only just enough room for it to go. Fortunately 
the day was fine, or an inundation of the house might have fol- 
lowed. I do not suppose the bird was improved for the table, 
though perhaps it may have become a little more tender. 

The late Lord Zetland was shooting at Clipstone, and the- 
beaters were all standing in line ready for the guns to fall in 
and take their places before walking up some turnips. Looking 
up and down the line, Lord Zetland remarked that he knew 
Sherwood Forest was a famous place for large oak trees, but that 
it seemed to be equally famous for bulky keepers, as he had 
never seen such big stout men as Jonathan Richardson, Edwin 
Woods, and some of the others. 

I enjoyed many happy days and much good sport when the 
late Simon Lovat was my guest at Welbeck and at Langwell. I 
see from the game book that he and I one day killed 1 13^ brace 
of grouse, shooting over dogs at Braemore ; and I always miss his 
cheery presence and his great skill at my shooting parties. 

When I came to Welbeck in 18799 2ind for a good many years 
afterwards^ woodcocks did not nest here. The first nests were 
found at Clipstone, and they have been increasing in num- 
ber every year until, in I935> head keeper reported that 
there were at least forty nests, -with an average of four young 
birds in each, in the woods under his charge. Last year, for 
some reason, there were not quite so many. No one has any 
explanation to ofier why woodcocks should now nest at Welbeck, 
and not have done so in the past. A friend of mine, a banker, 


was returning to England from Denmark a few years ago. There 
had been a high westerly wind for several days ; and he told me 
that, for three or four hours, the vessel in which he was a pas- 
senger passed great numbers of dead woodcocks, floating on 
the surface of the water. These birds had evidently met the full 
force of the gale during their migration to the West, and had 
fallen into the sea. It struck me as curious that they did not 
turn back when they found the wind too strong for them. 

Mr. Warner Turner has been so kind as to send me the 
following note; 

‘When warpingi was being carried out at Misson, on land 
adjoining the Idle in Nottinghamshire, you had two or three 
days’ duck shooting with Captain Tomasson; and you in- 
structed me, if further warping was intended, to try and secure 
the shooting. But this I was unable to do. 

Tn 1913, however, Thorne Moor, near Doncaster, was being 
warped, and I found that the Yorkshire Land and Warping 
Company Limited were agreeable to let the prospective shoot- 
ing. So I acquired the sporting rights over 715 acres of land 
adjoining Medge HaU for five years, at a rent of a year. 
This tenancy was continued, and a new agreement was entered 
into in 1918, when an additional area was leased, making a total 
of 1,369 acres. 

‘As there was a great deal of warped mud to contend with, it 
was somewhat difficult to get about the ground. Ducks came 
there in great numbers at times, some very good bags being 
made, especially in the latter part of August and during Sep- 
tember — for instance, on October 5th, 1915, 124 teal and 9 
widgeon were shot by three guns, and on November 9th the bag 
was 90 teal and 2 1 mallard. 

‘At the end of August, 1916, 92 teal and 48 mallard were shot; 
and on September 20th, 180 teal and 43 mallard. A fortnight 
afterwards 104 teal were shot, but the best bag was when you 
returned from Langwell and, on October 30th, 225 teal and 6 
mallard were bagged. A week afterwards 82 teal were obtained. 

^The fertilization of land by spreading it with alluvial deposit. 

Q 241 

‘One day in September, 1917, the bag was 159 teal and 58 
mallard, and on October i8th, 195 teal and 9 mallard. After 
that year, however, the warping came to a close.’ 

Before I conclude this part of the chapter, I should like to pay 
a very hearty tribute to Mr. T. Warner Turner, and to the two 
excellent head keepers, D. M. Summers and F. W. Bartle, who 
work under his orders at Welbeck and Clipstone. I am quite 
sure that the splendid sport we have enjoyed is entirely due to 
their skill, knowledge, and continual vigilance, and to the same 
qualities in the men working under them. Though the soil is for 
the most part favourable, the estate is very thickly inhabited ; 
and the residents possess a large number of dogs of all sorts and 
kinds, which are apt to disturb the game, not only during the 
nesting season, but at all times during the year. In justice, I 
must say that the miners and other residents — though of course 
some of them like ‘a bit of sport’ — are very good fellows, with 
whom we are, and always have been, on the best of good terms. 

Most of the poachers are professionals, and, when up before 
the magistrates, they libel the miners badly by giving that 
description of themselves. Most of the keepers are young and 
active men, and can give as much as — or more than — they get, 
when it comes to what is known as a ‘rough-and-tumble’. 
If no longer young and active, they have other qualities which 
are found to be no less useful. On one such occasion a rather 
old and weighty keeper — I believe he weighs no less than 
eighteen stone — acted as a rallying point for the younger men, 
who brought their prisoners to him, when he finished them off 
by sitting on them. However, after the fights are over, the 
poachers bear little or no malice, as the head keeper takes them 
to his house, where their wounds (if any) are dressed, and after 
being given a warm drink and a bit of supper they are sent 
home — sometimes, however, to hear of the matter again ! 

The late Lord Dudley, a very good shot indeed, was often 
my guest. He brought all sorts and kinds of retainers with 
^among others, Andrew Kirkcaldy the famous golfer 
from St. Andrews, Carl Jakse, his Austrian haircutter, the head 


keeper from Witley, his wife’s footman, and two chauffeurs. 
After luncheon one day his wife and he, attended by all their 
followers except the footman, were walking together out shooting. 
In a few moments they were joined by a soldier, home on leave, 
and the village postman. I watched the whole cavalcade, and it 
looked like a crowd of people going to the Derby. 

During a partridge drive, when Andrew KLirkcaldy and 
the Austrian haircutter loaded for him, Eddie fired at a part- 
ridge which was too close, and blew it to pieces. It fell at his feet ; 
and, as I was the next gun to him, he kicked it into a ditch, 
hoping, I suppose, that I should not notice it. I had killed six 
birds ; and when, as we walked across the field, I asked Eddie 
what his luck had been, he said he had killed six birds too. Just 
then we heard the hairdresser call out ‘Milor’ ! Milor’ !’ He was 
holding fragments of a bird by its one remaining leg, and ex- 
claimed, ‘See, Milor’ ! I have found another piece in the ditch. 
So I think Milor’ now has one bird more than His Grace.’ I am 
afraid Eddie did not hear the last of this for a very long time ! 

Years ago, I walked through a plantation of young firs, 
in which the trees were nearly touching one another. Four 
birds rose in front of me. I knocked three of them over; but the 
fourth, which I saw plainly was a woodcock, I missed above the 
trees. I said to my loader ‘What a bore; I’ve killed the three 
partridges, but I missed the woodcock.’ When we reached the 
place where the birds had fallen we picked up three woodcocks, 
which I had mistaken for partridges among the thick trees. To 
this day I wish I had killed the fourth, and thus made a double 
right and left of woodcock. I have never done the same thing 
since, or had the chance to do so. I ought once to have killed 
three at Rufford; but quite a different thing occurred then, for I 
missed them all! I tell these stories to exemplify my luck on 
one occasion, and my bad shooting on another. 

A friend of mine was shooting grouse in Scotland. From the 
number of shots he fired he apparently had a very good drive, 
but when the keeper counted his cartridges he said ‘Weel, weel, 
juist forty shots and never a death.’ 


On January 4th, 1883, when I was in India, Lord Enniskillen 
killed a grouse on the Lings at Clipstone, A few black game 
were sometimes killed there, but never a grouse, before or 
afterwards, during the fifty-six years I have been at Welbeck. 
It was a very hard winter; and it was thought that the grouse 
must have come from Ghatsworth, some twenty-five or thirty 
miles away, where the moors were covered with snow. 

During my absence in India, a party of officers of a very smart 
Cavalry Regiment, in which my brother Bill was serving, shot 
several times at Welbeck. From an inspection of the game book 
when I returned, I saw that the bags were very small. I asked 
the head keeper why this was so. ‘Because, Your Grace, some 
of they Cavalry officers didn’t kill as much as they could eat,’ 
was his reply. I think this was a most apt description of a bad 
team of guns. 

One of the keepers brought a very clever lurcher out shoot- 
ing, which he had captured from poachers. The dog continu- 
ally ran in, picked up the birds, and, if they were not quite dead, 
gave them a crunch to finish them off. I told the keeper to lead 
it. He therefore put a string through the dog’s collar ; but directly 
his back was turned, the dog bit the string through, and then 
sat quietly by its master. A bird soon came over, which I killed — 
and away went the dog after it as usual. Pretending not to 
have seen what happened I said to the man, ‘Why didn’t you do 
as I told you?’ ‘So I did. Your Grace,’ said he; ‘but look — the 
cunning devU’s bit the string.’ 

The keeper’s name was Joe Harvey. He was a very curious 
character and, though a good keeper, a real poacher at heart. 
He was also very outspoken. He generally picked up my dead 
game; but one day when my brother Henry was shooting, 
Harvey deserted me for him. I upbraided him for this, and said, 
‘I can shoot just as well as Lord Henry.’ ‘Ah,’ replied Harvey, 
‘you think so, but you carCtV ‘You’re after a tip, I believe,’ was the 
best retort I could think of. My old friend Fred Milner shot 
Harvey through his hat. He took no notice, beyond quietly 
remaridng, ‘Damned lucky ’twasn’t my ’ead, wasn’t it?’ 


Shortly after the War, as is well known, there was considerable 
unrest among the miners. One morning, when we had arranged 
to shoot near one of the neighbouring collieries, I arrived at the 
meeting place and found fifty or sixty miners assembled there. I 
asked them why they had come, and they said, ‘We’ve had 
word from the manager that we’re not to go down the pit to-day ; 
and, as we’ve nothing else to do, we came out to watch the sport.’ 
Of course I replied, ‘Come along. I’m delighted to see you.’ As we 
were walking along, I thought how magnificently they had 
fought during the War, and asked them what was the cause of 
all the present unrest. ‘Well,’ one of them said, ‘when the War 
was on, the officers did all they could to look after us and keep 
us comfortable and amused. Now, nobody bothers about us any 
more; and it all seems damned dull.’ ‘And’, added another, 
‘when we come up from the pit, hot and thirsty and tired, there’s 
nothing to fall back on: for the beer’s so damned weak and bad, 
its naught but mucky, dirty water. Can’t you get something 
done about it, sir?’ I may say that I did write to the authorities 
on this point; and not long afterwards a better and stronger 
class of beer was supplied to the miners, though how much my 
letter had to do with the change, I do not know. 

For some time it has been my custom to read the first Lesson 
at the Morning Service on Sunday ; and a note of the chapter is 
sent to me the evening before, written on one of the pink forms 
which are used here for delivering telephone-messages. Many 
of these forms reach me during the day, and one Sunday I put 
the wrong paper into my pocket; for, when standing at the 
lectern I read with horror ‘450 partridges’, our bag of the day be- 
fore, instead of the appointed chapter of Scripture! However, I 
kept my head, opened the Bible by the marker, and read the first 
chapter I saw. Curiously enough it happened to be the right one. 

When H.R.H. the Duke of Cambridge paid us a visit on 
November 7th, 1889, he fired at some pheasants at rather close 
range, scattering their tail-feathers in every direction. Two small 
boys were carrying his cartridges, and one said to the other, ‘The 
old gent, ’e do ticMe ’em up, ’e do!’ 


When the Prince of Wales, afterwards Kang Edward VII, was 
shooting at Cavendish Lodge, Clipstone, on December 17th, 
1891, some ladies to whom he was talking drew his attention to 
a passing hare. H.R.H. took up his gun quickly, missed the hare, 
and shot his shooting-stick — ^which he had left behind — in half, 
much to his own amusement and theirs too. 

On another occasion when King Edward honoured us with 
his presence, he was suffering from a rather serious injury 
to one of his feet. His Majesty therefore shot from a bath-chair. 
At one of the rises where the pheasants flew very high. Lord 
Ripon killed a particularly high-flying bird stone-dead, when, 
to everybody’s ^smay, it seemed about to fall on H.M.’s head. 
Fortunately it fell a few inches wide, but hit the arm of the 
bath-chair, burst open, and covered the King with blood and 
feathers. Naturally, H.M. was none too pleased at the moment, 
but after the mess had been cleaned up, he simply laughed and 
made a joke of it. 

I have seen a lady struck on the head by a falling pheasant. 
She was completely stunned, and did not really recover from 
the blow for three or four months. I myself was once hit by a 
driven grouse, which I had killed in front of my butt, and I can 
vouch for the heaviness of the blow. Fortunately for me, the 
bird first hit the barrels of my gun, so I did not receive the direct 
impact. I have also seen a hare and a rabbit collide, when both 
were running as hard as they could go. The hare ran off, rather 
lame ; but the rabbit was killed stone-dead. 

It has been my privilege to entertain, on different occasions. 
King Carlos of Portugal, the King of Spain and the Archduke 
Franz Ferdinand of Austria. All three of them were good 
shots ; and I venture to class them in the following order, i The 
Archduke Franz Ferdinand, 2 The King of Portugal, 3 The 
King of Spain. 

On his first day out, the Archduke found some of the high- 
flying pheasants rather more than he could manage; but on 
the two following days he proved himself to be quite first-class, 
and certainly the equal of most of my friends. I am convinced 



The 1 5th Marquess of Winchester, 
Major, Coldstream Guards; killed 
at Magersfontein, 1899 

Seated in the foreground are Princess Clary- Kinsky and the Duchess of 


that, given enough practice in this country, he would have been 
equal to any of our best shots. I only once had the honour of 
being present with him at a shoot in his own country, when 
he killed two roe-bucks. I was told that he was considered the 
best rifle shot in Austria and Hungary, and I can well believe 
it. We found H.I.H. and his charming wife most delightful 

When the Archduke was my guest in December, 1913, he had 
a narrow escape from being killed. There was rather deep snow 
on the ground ; and after a rise of pheasants, one of the loaders 
fell down. This caused both barrels of a gun he was carrying 
to be discharged, the shot passing within a few feet of the 
Archduke and myself I have often wondered whether the 
Great War might not have been averted, or at least postponed, 
had the Archduke met his death then, and not at Sarajevo in 
the following year. 

The late Duke of Devonshire, then Lord Hartington, was a 
keen though not very accurate shot. When shooting at Greswell 
Crags, in company with Harry Chaplin and one or two other of 
his old friends, he killed an exceptionally high-flying partridge 
in a manner equal to that of de Grey or Harry Stonor. His 
friends thereupon gave a loud cheer. When the drive was over, 
he said to me, T wonder why Harry Chaplin and the others 
cheered when I fired both barrels at a cock-pheasant and 
missed.’ ‘Missed a cock-pheasant with both barrels?’ I said. 
‘Why, you killed the highest partridge that ever flew from 
Nottinghamshire’^ into Derbyshire!’ ‘Did I?’ said Hartington. 
‘I didn’t even know it was there. However, it’s over now, so 
don’t say anything about it, and let me keep my reputation.’ 
We still call the place Hartington’s stand. 

Hartington showed me a gate at Chatsworth, where he said 
he must have made a record shot. He fired at a wounded cock- 
pheasant which was passing the gate, and killed it, and also a 
retriever which was running after it. With the same shot he hit 
the owner of the retriever in the leg, and the chef from Chats- 

^The county boundary follows the stream between Creswell Crags. 


worth, who was an onlooker. I asked him ‘Which did you most 
regret having hit?’ ‘Why, the chef, of course,’ he replied; ‘for if 
he had been badly wounded, all our dinners might have been 

During a partridge-drive in the eastern counties, a very dis- 
tinguished peer shot a well-known and popular equerry, who 
was standing beyond him, and his loader. The noble lord was 
so disgusted with himself that he returned home and went straight 
to bed ! Luckily for me, I was the gun on his right ; for had I 
been on his left I should have been one of his victims. The 
same noble lord often shot pheasants in the tail as they rose in 
front of him. When asked why he did so, he said, ‘Because it’s 
the nearest way to their vitals.’ 

When our old brother-officer Lord Winchester (‘Wilty’) went 
out to the South African War with the Coldstream Guards, 
Jacko Durham and I, more with a view of helping him out than 
anything else, leased his shooting at Amport, near Andover. We 
shot on Quarley Hill, when the surrounding plain was driven in, 
our bag being five or six hundred hares. I generally dislike a 
hare-shoot; but this was rather fun, as the hares ran between 
the gorse-bushes on the top of the hill. A very few days after- 
wards, on December nth, 1899, Wilty was killed at Magers- 
fontein; and neither Jacko nor I had the heart to shoot there 

The first time I had the honour of being the Prince and 
Princess of Wales’s guest at Sandringham was in 1881, at the 
usual party given during the week of H.R.H.’s birthday. 
Among those present were H.R.H. the Duke of Cambridge, the 
Duke of Beaufort, Lord Lonsdale, Lord Leicester, Lord Aveland, 
Lord Rendlesham and Count Szechenyi, all of whom are now 
dead. I append the bags obtained on the various days.^ It was 
the custom for each guest to give H.R.H. a birthday present; 
and these, often consisting of gold cigarette-cases and other 

^ Beat: Flitcham Farms 



Nov, 8th 1881 








valuable things, were displayed upon a table. Among the glitter 
of gold and silver, we were all amused to see two very 
dusty and cobwebby bottles of port wine, bearing a label ‘From 
the Earl and Countess of Leicester’. When the Prince expressed 
his gratitude for these. Lord Leicester said, ‘I noticed that Your 
Royal Highness seemed to enjoy the port at Holkham, so I have 
brought you two bottles of it.’ We thought he might at least 
have made it a dozen ! 

In the evening, I heard Lord Leicester telling H.R.H. about 
the wonderful duck-shooting he enjoyed at Holkham. His de- 
scription of it went on for about half an hour; and it was 
evident from the interest shown by the Prince of Wales that he 
hoped to be invited to share in the sport. At the end, however. 
Lord Leicester said, ‘But after all. Sir, it is rather a selfish form 
of sport. If I had more than one gun, it would spoil the whole 
thing; so I always keep the shooting for myself.’ 

I have shot many times at Underley in Westmorland, as the 
guest of Birdie and my brother Henry. It was one of the best 
managed shoots I ever saw. The young head keeper, Sims, was 
quite a genius at rearing pheasants and showing them to the 
best advantage; while the beaters were wonderfully drilled by 
Mr. Corbett, the head forester. He carried a horn, and regulated 

Goromodore and 



Dersingham Woods 



Nov. gth 1881 







Wood Pigeons 




Freeman’s Farm 


i8 . 

Nov. loth i88r 







Jocelyn and 



Woodcock Woods 



Nov. nth 1881 







Wild Ducks 


Wood Pigeons 





their movements and speed by its notes. The beaters were drilled 
almost like soldiers, and obeyed his word of command as if he 
were an officer. It was the custom to drive the pheasants from 
the main coverts into smaller, detached coverts, specially made 
on adjacent hills. They were then driven back to the main 
coverts, when they flew sky-high over the heads of the guns. 
This was no doubt due to the fact that birds always fly better 
towards home than they do in any other direction. 

One very windy day, when the guest of Lord Harlech at 
Brogyntyn, I shot a high-flying pheasant, which fell right through 
the slate roof of a newly built cottage, and it made as clean a 
hole as if it had been a cannon-ball. This shows how much force 
there is in the blow of a dead pheasant. Lord Penrhyn, the owner 
of the famous slate-quarries in Wales, was a fellow-guest, and 
he came in for much chaff about the quality of his slates. 

Lord Pembroke’s head keeper at Wilton paid us a very 
pretty compHment. I remarked to him how high the pheasants 
flew over the valleys on the Groveley Beat, and he replied, ‘Yes 
— ^probably as high as any in England. But I notice that some 
of you gentleman have very long handles to your guns, so you 
can compete with them.’ 

Randolph Churchill, when a shooting guest at Wynyard, 
where I enjoyed much good sport with Lord Londonderry, un- 
fortunately killed a pet dachshund belonging to one of his near 
relations. Of course the fair owner was very much distressed at 
the sad end of her pet; and Randolph, by way of appropriate 
consolation, had his poor little victim stuffed and put into a glass 
case, wjiich he sent to his relative as a Christmas present. I am 
afraid the result was not very successful, for when the lady 
saw it, she burst into a flood of tears. No doubt she felt that it 
was adding insult to injury, though I am sure poor Randolph 
had none but the kindest intentions. 

It is now forty-five years since I first had the pleasure of 
shooting the high-flying pheasants at Chatsworth, in the late 
Duke of Devonshire’s time; and my good and faithful friend the 
present Duke has kindly invited me to do so eveiy year since, 


Lady Margaret Ormsby-Gore 

except, of course, when he was Governor-General of Canada. 
I am exceedingly grateful to him, not only for the excellent 
sport, but also for his kindness in never forgetting to invite an 
old friend. I venture to reproduce three bags of game which 
were killed, and they may be taken as average days’ sport at 
Ghats worth: 

Beat: Hare Park & Baslow Partridges i 

Dec. 14th 1909 Pheasants 1,074 

Hares 43 

Rabbits 90 

Woodcocks I 

Wild Ducks I 

Various 2 — 1,212 

Dukesbank & Paddocks Partridges 8 

Dec. 15th 1909 Pheasants 1,423 

Hares 70 

Rabbits 18 

Woodcocks 3 

Wild Ducks 59 

Various i — 1,582 

Bunkershill Pheasants 360 

Dec. 1 6th 1909 Hares 4 

Rabbits 27 

Woodcocks 5 

Wild Ducks 425 

Teal 2 — 823 

In the time of the late Duke of Devonshire the house, huge 
as it is, simply overflowed with guests during the shooting 
parties; and a friend of mine, who arrived rather late one 
evening, was given a bed in the hall-porter’s room. He was 
much amused when, early next morning, the letter-bags were 
hurled on the top of him, and the postman greeted him with, 
‘Get up, you lazy young devil! You’ve overslept yourself 
again I ’ 

My friend Willy Desborough was kind enough to invite me 
several times to his annual duck-shoot, at HickHng Broad in 
Norfolk, on August ist. Hickling Broad was formerly the pro- 
perty of the late Lord Lucas, Ettie Desborough’s first cousin; 
and when he was killed in France, in 1916, he left it to her third 


son, Ivo Grenfell, who bequeathed it to his father in 1926. Lord 
Lucas was keenly interested in natural history, and he formed 
a bird sanctuary at Hickhng, where many rare species are pro- 
tected, including the bittern, the marsh harrier, and Montagu’s 
harrier — ^possibly too many of the latter, as they are certainly 
not bird protectors themselves. The advantage of this Broad 
as a bird sanctuary is that it is all the property of one owner, 
and can therefore be completely protected all the year round. 
It is curious and pleasant to hear the booming of the bitterns 
in the evening. Besides these birds there is a vast quantity of 
ducks, some of which breed there, while others come in from 
the sea. 

When I shot there, I motored from Welbeck, through Nor- 
wich — about 150 miles — and arrived at the bungalow at tea- 
time, after which four or five other guns and I were taken in 
punts under the care of Jim Vincent, a great authority on shoot- 
ing, fishing and everything to do with the Broads, and were 
deposited in barrels sunk in the marshes. The birds rose in great 
numbers ; but it was inadvisable to shoot the first time they 
passed over as, if not fixed at on the first flight, they were more 
likely to return within shot. It was exceedingly good sport, and 
we kept up the shooting till dayhght failed. On one occasion 
I think quite two hundred birds were killed, but of course it 
was very difficult to pick them all up in the dark. 

I much enjoyed this sport, as it differed entirely from any- 
thing to which I was accustomed. All the same, a barrel reach- 
ing to one’s armpits was not, at my time of life, the most com- 
fortable place in the world in which to spend four or five hours 
after a long motor drive over rough roads ; and it was impossible 
to release oneself imtil Jim Vincent arrived with a rescuing 
boat. I am afraid that, at last, I have become too old for 
the sport and, much to my regret, I am obliged to decline 
Willy Desborough’s invitation. I wish I were twenty years 
younger ! 

I have received the following kind letter from WiQy, as to 
the bird sanctuary and duck shooting: 



5 February, 1937 . 

‘I received your letter and enclosure this morning, and am 
very pleased to supply the information for which you ask. 

‘Whiteslea Bird Sanctuary was formed as long ago as 1910 by 
the late Lord Lucas, at the instigation of the Hon. Edwin 
Montagu, a bird collector turned bird preserver, who formed a 
syndicate, of which the late Lord Grey of Falloden was a pro- 
minent member. 

‘Lord Lucas left the Sanctuary to Ivo, whom I succeeded, 
with the wish that the Sanctuary should be maintained, which I 
have done since, and added to it considerably in order to pro- 
tect the birds. 

‘There are several flighting places with tubs sunk in the 
marshes, or with butts erected sometimes in the water. The 
ducks are not put up, but they come in of their own accord in 
the evenings and early mornings, a good many from Swim 
Coots, which I keep undisturbed, and others from a distance. 
The most we have picked up after one evening flight is 361. The 
ducks which appear on these occasions are mallard, teal, 
pochard, shovellers, tufted ducks, golden eyes, gargany teal, 
widgeon, scaup, pintail and gadwell. 

‘I received a letter from Jim Vincent this morning, to say he 
had just seen a long-tailed duck, brent geese, red-throated 
divers, red-necked grebes, and Sclavonian grebes, and as he 
calculated 2,000 duck and 2,500 coots. Thirteen hundred coot 
have been killed in a day, and distributed to the villagers, who 
prefer them to duck. 

‘The following geese come in during the winter: greylag, 
brent, white-fronted and pink-footed, as well as whooper and 
Bewick swans. We hope to get avocets, ruffs and reeves, and 
perhaps spoonbills, to nest again in the Sanctuary. 

‘It was a great excitement when the marsh harrier and the 
Montagu’s harrier came to nest again after a great many years’ 
absence; but, as you suggest, it is possible to have too many of 
them for the other birds, big and small. 


‘Jim Vincent had a Montagu’s nest watched night and day, 
and came to the conclusion that it required about a thousand 
head to keep the family going. 

‘The little bearded tit is one of the specialities of the Whites- 
lea Sanctuary, and has been saved from extinction. 

‘Among butterflies the swallow-tailed butterfly is plentiful; 
and there are rare water plants such as naias marina^ which I 
believe is peculiar to these waters. 


I cannot possibly describe in detail all the good sport 
provided for me by my other kind and hospitable friends; but 
I should be very ungrateful if I did not mention some of which I 
have, perhaps, the most happy recollection. 

I have shot several times at Melton Constable, as the guest of 
my old friend the late George Hastings; and I remember a 
wonderful shoot of wild pheasants (none of them were hand- 
reared) in Hindolvestone Wood, where we killed 619 pheasants 
on November 24th, 1893 . 1 asked the keeper how many birds he 
thought we should get, and he said, ‘From 300 to 400.’ The 
wood is dead flat; but there happened to be a gale blowing, and 
the birds all flew splendidly. 

I spent a week as Lord Leicester’s guest at Holkham, in 1905. 
We had a remarkable bag of hares, killing over six hundred 
on three successive days, and on one of them no less than 

I had many days’ excellent sport with my friend the late Lord 
Savile at Rufford, where, very late in the season (it was on 
January 28th, 1924), we killed 222 partridges, almost all of 
them before luncheon. 

I remember a rather remarkable day at snipe, with Lord 
Anglesey at Plas Newydd, on November 15th, 1906. The guns 
were Charley Anglesey, General Sir Arthur Paget, the Hon. 
John Ward, the Hon. R. Molyneux, Lord Herbert and myself. 
It was a very wet day, and we had to wade through ditches, in 
some of which we were in water up to our middles. Arthur 


Paget preferred to sit in the carriage, most of the time, smoking 
cigars. The bag was 52 snipe, besides wild-duck, etc. 

Finally, I must not omit the sport I have enjoyed at Aske, as 
the guest of Lord Zetland; with Frank Mildmay at Flete, where 
the pheasants fly sky-high; with Sir Albert Whitaker at Bab- 
worth, where there is very good partridge-driving; at Ashridge, 
with the late Lord Brownlow; at Eaton, where I shot two or 
three times with the late Duke of Westminster ; and with Algy 
Belper at ELingston. I do not mention the excellent grouse 
shooting and deer-stalking I have had at Langwell, as I have 
already described it in my Fifty Years and More of Sport in Scotland, 
published in 1933. 



H aving heard a great deal about his visit to India from 
my brother-officer in the Coldstream, Jacko Durham, 
who had spent the previous winter there, and being 
deeply interested in our Eastern Empire because my great uncle 
Lord William Bentinck had been Governor of Madras (1803- 
1807), and afterwards (1827-1835) a very distinguished 
Gk)vernor-General of India under John Company, I deter- 
mined to go there myself Most fortunately it turned out that 
Lord de Grey, the eldest son of Lord Ripon, the then Viceroy, 
Lord Charles Beresford, Lord Wenlock, and Lord de Grey’s 
friend WiFred Greenwood were going there. Lord de Grey 
most kindly invited me to join this little party. 

We left London about the middle of December, 1882, and 
travelled overland, having a rough crossing from Brindisi to 
Alexandria, and then through the Suez Canal, to Bombay. We 
spent a few days there as guests of the Governor, Sir James 
Ferguson, at Parel, a suburb in which the Governor then Hved 
during the winter months, passing the summer at Malabar 
Point, which is now the official residence. We visited the island 
of Elephanta and other places of interest. Lord de Grey and 
Lord and Lady Charles Beresford then went by train to Cal- 
cutta, where Wilfred Greenwood and I joined them, after 
visiting Ajmir, Jaipur, Lucknow, Cawnpore, Delhi and other 
places on our way. A grand shoot and tamasha had been ar- 
ranged in Nepal for the Viceroy, Lord Ripon; but at the last 
moment he was unable to go, because of a serious crisis which 
had arisen on account of the Ilbert Bill, which, if passed, would, 
I believe, have given native magistrates power to try and punish 




Europeans. The protests against this Bill assumed such large 
and dangerous proportions that certain tea-planters in Assam 
even threatened to kidnap the Viceroy. Fortunately the Mihtary 
Secretary, Lord William Beresford, V.G.,^ had great influence 
with these fine sportsmen, for he had often been their guest for 
pig-sticking; and he pointed out how extremely foolish their 
intentions were. On this account the Viceroy was unable to visit 
Nepal ; so Lord de Grey went in his place, taking us with him. 

We travelled a long way by train, and were then driven by 
young tea-planters in tandem dog-carts to the borders of Nepal, 
where we were met by the Nepalese elephants, on which we 
rode to a vast camp on the Rapti River. There we found the 
Maharajah of Nepal, Sir Runudeep Singh, ready to receive us. 
He of course had his own camp, and another, most luxurious 
camp was provided for us. There were no less than seven hun- 
dred elephants. Soon after we arrived a heavy thunderstorm 
took place, and it rained in torrents for about twenty-four hours, 
until the whole camp was a quagmire. The camp was beauti- 
fully situated, and in the early morning we had a wonderful 
view of the Himalayas, with Mount Everest towering in the 
background ; but after about 6 o’clock it was obscured by haze. 
The surrounding jungle swarmed with all sorts of game : wild 
elephant, rhinoceros, tiger, panther, every kind of wild deer 
and wild boar. 

With the Maharajah was Mr. Girdlestone, the British Resi- 
dent at Katmandu. He had a dear little pet-dog, which was 
allowed to lick the blood of the dead tigers. Tiger’s blood is 
supposed to give courage and ferocity; but, so far as I could see, 
it had no more effect upon him than the blood of a rabbit! 

^Bill Beresford held the important post of MiUtziry Secretary to the Viceroy. He 
was always very kind to me and, in fact, to us all. As is well known, he was not 
only a great sportsman but also a most gallant soldier, having gained the Victoria 
Cross at the battle of Ulundi, during the Zulu war. After serving in the gth Lancers 
he became A.D.C. and later Military Secretary to the Viceroy. He was altogether 
the right man in the right place, and most useful to Lord Ripon in every way. He 
was a first-dass pig-sticker — ^in fact he was facile princeps in every form of sport. If 
one placed oneself in Bill’s hands in India, one was certain of a warm welcome 
wherever one went, and of having the best sport that could be obtained. 



A regiment of Ghurka Infantry was stationed at the camp, 
with its band, which played to us in the evenings. It was most 
amusing to watch the Regiment ford the river and streams. The 
men sat on the bank, and were ordered to remove their boots 
and trousers ; they then crossed over, the '.bandsmen carrying 
their instruments on their heads ; and they put their clothes on 
again on the further bank. The effect of the red coats and naked 
brown legs was most quaint and amusing. 

The method of shooting tiger was for the elephants to drive in 
a vast circle of the jungle and, having done so, form a ring at 
least two deep. I remember that once there were three tigers 
in the ring, besides some wild boars. My friends and I rode 
howdah-elephants, and when the ring was formed we took it in 
turns to search for the tiger. When the tiger was found, it 
generally gave a wild roar and charged at the elephant, and 
then was the chance to shoot it. The elephants forming the ring 
seemed much more afraid of the pigs than of the tigers. I saw a 
boar charge the ring, stampede the elephants and get right 
through. Another smaller boar, attempting the same tactics, 
got between an elephant’s legs, and he kicked it out just as if it 
were a football. It did not seem to me that there was any danger 
whatever in shooting a tiger in this way because, however much 
he might maul the poor elephant, he never managed to reach 
the howdah. 

The rhinoceros hunting was more interesting and to my 
mind much more sportsmanlike. We used fewer elephants i-lian 
when we were after tiger, marching along in a line through the 
dense jungle ; and when the rhinoceros was found the fun began. 
Of our seven hundred elephants there were only two which 
were really staunch — that is, which would not run away if the 
rhinoceros charged, as it usually did; and we took it in turns to 
ride them. The rhino I killed charged my elephant, and I was 
lucky enough to kill it with one shot from my four-bore rifle. 
When it was lying dead on the ground I noticed something 
struggling behind it, and found that it was a baby rhino. 
Charlie Beresfbrd and I tried to catch it alive ; but it was much 



too strong for us, and our friends shouted to us to get back on to our 
elephants as there were two more rhinos close by, which had been 
attracted by the squeals of the young one. Elnowing that the baby 
would die without its mother, we shot it. Another time a rhino 
charged the line of elephants, rushed through our adjacent camp, 
knocked down one of the tents and escaped through the river. 

The most interesting episode of all was a hunt after a large 
wild elephant with one tusk, which was reported to be in the 
neighbourhood. Mounted on pad elephants, we left the camp at 
about 5 o’clock in the morning and, after some time, found the 
tusker, which made off with our pad elephants in pursuit. The 
young Nepalese princes stood bare-footed on the backs and heads 
of the elephants they were riding, to keep the tusker in view, as 
we crashed through the jungle, knocking down small trees and 
plunging in and out of nullahs. It was quite extraordinary how 
the Ghurkas rode and controlled the elephants. Every animal, 
besides being ridden by a mahout, carried a grass cutter on 
its tail. The grass cutter was armed with a spiked mallet, and 
with this he compelled the poor old hathi^ as the mahout calls 
the elephant, to go as fast as it could — ^which, after all, was not 
more than about five miles an hour. It was a very risky ride for 
an unpractised passenger, for as we crashed along we had to 
shift from one side of the pad to the other, to avoid overhanging 
trees. After several hours’ pursuit, and covering about i8 miles 
of country, the wild elephant stopped and a ring was at once 
formed around him. He made two or three rather half-hearted 
charges, and appeared very exhausted. After about an hour 
our two fighting elephants, one of which, reputed to be the 
biggest elephant in India, was named BijU Pash (which I believe 
means Scatterer of Lightning), entered the ring and butted the 
poor wild elephant until he gave in, when a noose was fastened 
to his hind legs and he was tied to a tree. Two female elephants 
were left with him to console him. In about a fortnight’s time he 
arrived in the camp with his lady friends, and before we went 
away he had begun to carry a mahout, though of course he was 
not yet thoroughly trained. 


One day, after we had shot a tiger, an individual prepared 
his camera to photograph it, while we ate our lunch. When we 
finished our meal and the photographer went to take the pic- 
ture, he found that a swarm of bees had settled on the camera, 
and he dared not approach it. I may say that one of the dangers 
of jungle shooting is an attack by a swarm of bees; so we were 
advised to have a travelling-rug ready in the howdah, with 
which to protect our heads and shoulders in case of attack. The 
natives use their turbans for this purpose. Needless to say we all 
wore topis, and a quilted pad to protect our necks and backs ; 
for it was very hot indeed during the day, though cool at night. 

Nepal has always remained an independent State; and 
though we recruit Ghurka regiments from there, I believe our 
recruiting officers did not then enter the country — perhaps they 
do not do so now — ^but were stationed at the frontier. Some of 
these Ghurkas are born and bred in the different regiments. 
The King of Nepal lives a retired life, the government of the 
country being carried on by a family of hereditary Maharajahs. 
The then Maharajah, Sir Runudeep Singh, was a brother of 
the famous Jung Bahadur, of whom a romantic story is related. 
A few years before the Mutiny, Jung Bahadur visited England, 
where he became a great friend and admirer of Laura Bell,^ a 
beautiful woman of the time. After leaving England, he sent 
her a splendid ring, and with it a note in which he said that if 
ever she required his help she had only to send him the ring, and 
he would do anything he could for her. When the Mutiny broke 
out in 1857, Laura Bell told this story to a friend whom I knew 
very well, and he went to the India Office, taking the ring and 
Jung Bahadur’s letter with him. These were sent to India, with 
a written request from Laura that the Nepalese Government 
should either join the British or remain neutral. The Nepalese 
did remain neutral, and the Ghurka regiments faithful to the 
British Raj. When the Mutiny was over they made an end of 
the mutineers who had fled into the Nepalese Terai. Among 
these was said to be the notorious Nana Sahib, who massacred 

^Daughter of Captain R. H. Bell of Bellbrook, Go. Antrim. 


(A. Clayton) 

Photograph hy W. Dennis Moss 









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the women and children at Gawnpore, and flung their bodies 
into a well. Laura Bell, after a good many vicissitudes, married 
Mr. Thistlethwayte and lived in Grosvenor Square. She became 
very devout and philanthropic, and Mr. Gladstone attended 
religious and other meetings at her house. I used to see her as an 
old lady, and often admired pictures of her in her lovely youth. 

We spent six very happy and interesting weeks in Nepal, 
where I beheve that, besides other game, our bag was fourteen 
tigers and eight rhinoceros. When we left, we went by boat along 
the Rapti River and had good fun shooting at the crocodiles 
lying on the bank. I include a photograph of one which I 
secured. On the way home from our day’s sport I often saw big 
muggers lying in the stagnant ponds. I used to see their heads 
and eyes and fire at them. One of those we killed contained a wo- 
man’s bangles, so we thought it quite legitimate to shoot them. 

The Ghurkas are extraordinarily brave Httle men. When we 
were encamped on the bank of a tributary of the Rapti, we 
heard a tremendous hullabaloo one morning; and, going to see 
what it was, we found the Ghurkas kilHng a croc with their 
kukris. It appears that they had bathed daily in the river although 
they knew the reptile was there. For a few days the croc behaved 
itself, but at last it attacked one of them, and then seven or eight 
more rushed into the water and cut it to pieces. 

Polly Garew gave me a splendid instance of the dash and 
bravery of the Ghurkas. When serving on Lord Roberts’s staff 
he was present at an attack, made chiefly by the Highland 
Regiments, upon a valley on the way to Kabul. The Afghans 
were in a strong position on the hiU-sides, and were firing under 
cover of the boulders. 

The Highlanders opened the attack, when suddenly there ap- 
peared among them a little Ghurka sergeant. He ran two or 
three hundred yards in advance of our troops, stalked the Afghans 
who were sniping from behind the rocks, poked them out with 
his bayonet, and, as each tribesman ran to find fresh cover, 
shouted, ‘Kill, sahib! Kill!’ throwing himself flat on his face. 

At the end of the valley was a fort, with a gun in it. StiU 


well in front of the line, the little Ghurka rushed the gun and 
bayoneted two of the crew. He then took his cap off and, thrust- 
ing it down the muzzle of the gun, shouted, ‘This is my gun. 
I claim it for my Regiment,’ after which he sat straddle-legged 
across it, threatening everyone who came near with his bayonet. 

When Lord Roberts arrived, the little sergeant was still in 
possession. Lord Roberts was very much astonished to see him, 
as his regiment was not in action on that occasion; but when 
Polly explained the situation he laughed and said, ‘What a little 
hero! I suppose, strictly speaking, he ought to be court-mar- 
tialled for absenting himself from his regiment. But I will make 
that all right for him ; and of course he shall have his gun.’ 

Polly told me that during the occupation of Kandahar the 
Ghurkas made great friends with the Highland Regiments, par- 
ticularly the Gordon Highlanders, as they considered they were 
hill-men like themselves- One day he saw a big, brawny ser- 
geant of the Gordon Highlanders and a tiny Ghurka sergeant, 
apparently bargaining with a tall Afghan. To Polly’s astonish- 
ment the Ghurka suddenly flew at the Afghan and knocked him 
down. Polly asked the Ghurka why he had done so, and he re- 
plied, pointing to the Afghan, ‘That dirty blackguard tried to 
cheat my friend, so I put him on his back.’ 

Reverting to our tour, Charlie Beresford had a dangerous ex- 
perience with a python. He came across a very large one, curled 
up and apparently asleep. Not having his rifle with him, Charlie 
recklessly attacked it with a kukri, and fortunately gave the 
python so deep a cut as to injure its spine. 

One day one of the elephants sank into a morass, lost its head, 
and became unmanageable. We contrived to rescue the mahout 
and the occupants of the howdah, and then threw faggots to the 
elephant, which arranged them under its feet, thus getting a 
foothold, and eventually extricated itself All this time the ma- 
hout encouraged it, sometimes with endearing names, and 
sometimes with strong and hearty curses. 

On leaving Nepal we were invited to a shooting party by the 
Maharajah of Durbimgah where, as in Nepal, game simply 


swarmed. We had nothing hke the same number of elephants, 
but those we used were staunch and good. Both the Maharajah 
and his Resident, Colonel Money, were very kind and hos- 
pitable. As usual there were two camps, one for the Maharajah 
and another for his guests. Our bag was as follows : 
















March i 











































































II-I 2 
































i 6 



















After the shoot at Durbungah we went by train to Bombay, 
staying at Benares on the way as the guests of the Maharajah of 
Vizianagram. We were going for an early ride one morning 
in Calcutta, and were waiting for Charlie B. to appear, when 
Bill B. became impatient and asked his servant, ‘Where is Lord 
Charles Sahib?’ ‘He in bed,’ was the reply. ‘Then why the 
devil don’t you call him?’ ‘But how dare I disturb him when 
he behind mosquito curtains, in bed with the Memsahib?’ 

At the end of March, we sailed from Bombay in a P. & O. 
steamer, as far as Port Said, and proceeded by train to Alex- 
andria. There we embarked upon the Tanjore^ commanded by 
Captain Briscoe, who was, I think, an Officer of the R.N.R. 

The Tanjore carried the mails between Alexandria, Brindisi 
and Venice. About half an hour before she sailed, an excited 

8 Durbungah is not a pig-sticking country, so it is legitimate to shoot the pigs. 

Irishman rushed on board and said, ‘I must have a passage this 
evening,’ demanding to see his brother-irishman the Captain. 
The Captain, however, said, T’m very sorry, you can’t have a 
berth on board this ship tonight. We’re clean full up.’ At this, 
the would-be passenger grew more excited than ever, and 
shouted, T demand to be given a berth — I telegraphed for 
one long ago, from the Blue Nile.’ T don’t care a damn,’ re- 
torted Briscoe, ‘whether you telegraphed from the Blue Nile, 
the Green Nile, the Red Nile, or any other coloured Nile. 
There’s no room for you on board this ship tonight.’ 

Hearing the dulcet voices of his countrymen, Charlie Beres- 
ford of course joined in the row (what Irishman would do other- 
wise?) ; and he pleaded hard that some accommodation should 
be found for the traveller. Now, not only had Briscoe given 
valuable assistance with the Tanjore to Charlie, when he com- 
manded the Condor and silenced the guns of a fort near Alexan- 
dria — ^the famous occasion when Sir Beauchamp Seymour 
(afterwards Lord Alcester), known as ‘The Swell of the Ocean’, 
sent him the special message, ‘Well done. Condor ^ ; but his family 
was closely connected with Charlie’s elder brother, Lord Water- 
ford, in Ireland. By this time, the Tanjore was due to sail, and 
the Second Officer came to Briscoe and said, ‘Time’s up, sir.’ 
Briscoe, forgetting all about the Irishman, said, ‘All right — 
cast off!’ and the vessel left harbour, with the unwanted 
passenger on board. The next thing Charlie heard was a roar 
from Briscoe, ‘If I wouldn’t be hung for murder, I’d throw ye 
overboard!’ However the stranger turned out to be a man of 
consequence, and a most charming fellow; and, by the time we 
reached Brindisi, he, Briscoe, Charlie and I were hobnobbing 

I disembarked at Brindisi for Paris, and the others continued 
their passage to Venice. The vessel was commonly known as ‘the 
old Tanjore\ I believe she was one of the last paddle-wheel 
steamers in the service of the P. & O. Company. 

My wife and I were invited to Delhi in January, 1903, by the 
then Viceroy, Lord Gurzon, to attend the Durbar held in 



Standing, left to right: Ailwyn Fellowes, Mr. Shillingford, Lord Yareborough, 
and extreme right, Sir Henry Meysey-Thompson and Wilfred 

Seated, left to right: Lord Wenlock, Portland, Maharajah of Durbungah, 
Lord de Grey, Colonel Money 


29- Baron Massenbach 58. Lady 

The Commander-in-Ghief and his Staff 
Standing: Capt. V. Brooke, Major R* Marker, Major F, A. Maxwell, V.C. 
Seated: Col. H. Hamilton, Gen. Viscount Kitchener, Lt.-GoL Birdwood 

Officers past and present of the Foot-guards 
Standing: Hon. M. Ponsonby (G. Gds.), A. V. Poynter (S. Gds.), 
R. G. Gilmour (G. Gds,), A. Russell (G. Gds.), L. Drummond 
(S. Gds.), F. Adam (S. Gds.), R. Marker (C. Gds.), Festridge 
(G. Gds.), Hon. J. Yarde-Buller (S. Gds.), H. Rawlinson (C.Gds.) 
Seated: Hon. R. Lygon (G. Gds.), Dashwood (S. Gds.), Beevor 
(S. Gds.), Portland (C. Gds.), H.R.H. the Duke of Connaught 
(S. Gds.), Lord Stanley (G. Gds.), Hon. G. Harbord (S. Gds ^ 

honour of H.M. King Edward’s accession to the Throne. We 
sailed from Marseilles in the P, & O, Arabia. She was promptly 
nicknamed the Grosvenor Square^ because many of the passen- 
gers who were going to India as the guests of Lord Curzon 
lived either in the Square or in that district. We had a happy 
and prosperous voyage to Bombay, whence we were conveyed 
to Delhi in a special White Train. I remember we were all much 
amused when the huge dress-trunks owned by some of the ladies 
were each carried by four staggering porters to be loaded in the 
train at Bombay. 

I have not space to describe the Durbar itself, but it was a 
scene of the greatest splendour, organised in a wonderful way by 
Lord Curzon and the many able men who assisted him. Among 
these were Colonel the Hon. Everard Baring, known as ‘the 
Imp’, and Major George Baker-Carr, Rifle Brigade, who be- 
came our most intimate friend. Captain Wigram, now Lord 
Wigram, who rendered such splendid service to King George V, 
and who, everybody is glad to know, is now in the service of his 
son, was also on the Staff. The Duke and Duchess of Con- 
naught were there; and I remember that when Lord Curzon 
proposed the Duke’s health at one of the State dinners, we were 
all much struck by the eloquence and beautiful wording of 
H.R.H.’s extempore reply. 

One morning General Sir Robert Low, commanding the 
troops at Bombay, who had fought as a cavalry officer all 
through the Indian Mutiny, conducted a party round the City 
walls, and showed us where the Regiment with which he served 
was posted, explaining the details of the attack and describ- 
ing the never-to-be-forgotten assault upon the Kashmir Gate.^ 
He said it was a most disagreeable and trying occasion, as the 
cavalry was heavily fired upon from the walls and was not 
allowed to reply. About four hundred of the Indian troops 
which took part in the assault, being members of the Corps of 

^We were specially interested in this because Sergeant Burgess, who carried the 
powder-bag to blow in the gate, was a distant relation of Sister Grace Burgess, for 
many years the nurse of oxir children. 

Veterans, were reviewed by the Viceroy. A few of them had 
even served in the Sikh War, twelve years before the Mutiny. 

As is well known, George Gurzon was an amusing and 
interesting raconteur. He told me that the Amir of Afghan- 
istan was a very clever and witty man. He regularly read some 
of the EngHsh newspapers, and appeared extremely interested 
in a terrible murder that had recently occurred, when a man 
beat his wife to death with a bludgeon. He said to Lord Gur- 
zon, ‘Is not England the most civilised country in the world?’ 
Curzon replied that it certainly was so. ‘Then’, said the Amir, 
turning to one of his courtiers, ‘tell me, how do you punish 
your wives when you quarrel with them?’ The courtier 
folded his hands, made a profound salaam, and repHed, ‘Your 
Highness, when I wish to punish one of my wives, I take 
her thus, turn her over my knee, and beat her gently with my 
sHpper.’ ‘Now, my Lord’, said the Amir to Curzon, ‘if you 
consider England to be so civilised a country, how much more 
so is Afghanistan, especially with regard to the treatment of 
erring wives!’ 

Ginrzon showed me two or three amusing letters he had re- 
ceived from Indian natives. One of them began, ‘While the rich 
man swelters in purple and velvet, the poor man snorts on the 
flint.’ Another, from a woman, began ‘My Lord, glorious and 
most powerful, you are the father of all my children’. He told 
me too that, during a tour, he arrived at a town decorated in 
his honour with triumphal arches amd banners. B. Carr drew his 
attention to the inscription on the principal arch — ‘The best 
and warmest W.C. to our beloved V.R.’ Curzon explained that 
the Indians are fond of abbreviating words, very much as is done 
in the Army, and that W.C. meant ‘welcome’, and V.R. ‘Vice- 
roy’ ; ‘but’, he added, ‘I think that, in India, it was unnecessary 
to add the prefix warmest to the abbreviated “welcome” !’ 

After visiting Lucknow and Benares, we returned to Bombay 
where we were the guests of Lord Northcote, the then Governor, 
at Malabar Point, where there were delicious marble baths, 
most grateful and comforting after the hot railway-journey. We 


sailed from Bombay again in the Arabia, as far as Port Said, 
when we left the vessel in order to visit Egypt and where we 
were placed in quarantine for a few days. When the vessel sailed, 
our friends on board waved farewell and, for fun, threw us bread, 
tins of sardines and other provisions. One of them, the well- 
known artist Mr. E. T. Reed, who for so long contributed to 
Punch, made a sketch — ^which I here reproduce — of my wife 
being pursued by Egyptian officials. We passed three very un- 
comfortable nights in the Quarantine Station, which was in- 
fested by fleas, sand flies, and other disagreeable creatures. 

Having escaped from quarantine we went to Cairo, and 
from there made a delightful expedition up the Nile, in a 
dhabiyeh, to Luxor and Assouan. The donkey-boys advertised 
the merits of their best animals by calling them — apparently 
quite irrespective of sex — ‘Mrs. Langtry’ and ‘Mrs. West’. 
When I asked about others they said, ‘No! They no good — 
second-class donkey. They only Antony and Cleopatra.’ Such is 
the value of personal charm and beauty over historical fame I St. 
Oswald and I shot some quails at Komombos ; and we visited the 
temple of Philae which had been submerged by the construction 
of the Nile Dam. We then returned to Cairo, and so home via 
Rome and Milan. Alice Mildmay was our charming companion. 

In writing of India, I recall an occasion when I sat next to 
Lord Reading, then Sir Rufus Isaacs, at dinner at George 
Curzon’s house in Carlton House Terrace; and I was im- 
mediately and immensely attracted by his charming personality 
and strikingly handsome appearance. He asked me whether I 
had ever been to India. I told him I had been there twice, the 
first time in 1883, when I landed at Bombay early in January. 
‘That is curious’, said he, ‘for I was in Bombay harbour at 
the same time — ^but under very different circumstances from 
yours. I had run away from home, and was serving before the 
mast in a steamer; and I’m afr-Eud I spent most of my time at 
Bombay like other A.B.’s, smoking niy pipe and spitting over 
the side of the vessel into the seal’ I remembered this story in 
after years, and often wondered what his feelings were when 


he arrived in India as Viceroy, and remembered, as he must 
have done, his previous visit to Bombay. 

Lord Reading was indeed a wonderful man: for I believe, 
after his time at sea, he became a member of the Stock Ex- 
change; he then went to the Bar, and became one of the 
leading Counsel of the time; and after this he was succes- 
sively Lord Chief Justice of England, British Ambassador in 
Washington, and Viceroy of India. His achievement is all the 
more remarkable, as it was due entirely to his own ability, 
industry and personal charm. 

We were very sorry indeed to say good-bye last year (1936) to 
our friends the Linlithgows, for we have known them both inti- 
mately, practically all their lives, and they have been our con- 
stant guests at Welbeck and elsewhere. 

I knew Hopie’s father very well indeed. In my hunting days 
at Melton, I remember him as an extremely smart and good- 
looking young man; and he afterwards married a charming 
wife, Hersey de Moleyns, daughter of Lord and Lady Ventry. 
He possessed great ability, and held, among other posts, 
those of Governor and Commander-in-Chief of Victoria, and 
first Governor and Commander-in-Ghief of the Australian 
Commonwealth. In the latter appointment he succeeded Lord 
Carrington, who never missed an opportunity of making a 
speech. During the voyage to AustraHa, Hopetoun prepared a 
speech, which he knew he would have to deliver upon his 
arrival. The speech was duly made, he thought with some 
success; but alas, he heard one member of the audience say 
to another, ‘Well, thank God fellow can’t speak!’ 

My first recollection of the present Lord Linlithgow is of his 
coming to Welbeck from Clumber with his father and mother, 
who were both very keen to renew their acquaintance with 
Carbine,’- whom they had often seen run and win in Australia. 

^Carbine was imported by me from Australia in 1 895 . He won the Melbourne Gup 
in 1890. His best performance was the -winning of the Sydney Cup from Melos anH 
Abercom. After his forty-third race he was retired; and he stood at Welbeck with 
St. Simon. Among his descendants were the Derby winners. Spearmint, Spion Kop 
andFelstead. See Chapter VII oiray Memories of Racing and Hunting. 


A.D.G. to Lord Curzon, 1903 

Hopie and his uncle, Freddie de Moleyns, walked with me to 
the stud; and all the way Hopie went through the motions of 
round-arm bowling, with stones which he picked up from the 
road. He was a very good golfer, but never quite so good as his 
brother Charles, who afterwards became one of the best ama- 
teurs in the country. 

Hopie told me that, when he and Charles were schoolboys, a 
very sentimental lady said to him, ‘I hear you have such a dear 
little brother. I am sure you must be very fond of him. What is 
his name?’ ‘Well, his name’s Charles,’ replied Hopie; ‘but I al- 
ways call him Stinker. Of course I’m fond of him, but I have to 
kick him sometimes.’ 

When Hopie was courting Doreen Milner, whom he after- 
wards (I am glad to say) married — ^for there is no more dear or 
charming woman living than Dorinda — ^he bought a large box 
of fireworks, with which to give a display for her and our amuse- 
ment. When it was dark he took the fireworks to the side of the 
lake, where some rather expensive shrubs had been recently 
planted. Suddenly a bright flash and a loud explosion occurred. 
Hopie had left the Hd of the box open, and a spark had fallen 
into it! The poor shrubs were badly scorched and completely 
ruined ; but the denouement was none the less happy, for during 
the next few days Hopie and Doreen became engaged. 

After the War, in which Hopie served — I may say that by this 
time he had succeeded his father, who was created Marquess of 
Linlithgow upon his return from Australia — ^he continued to 
serve his coimtry in many useful capacities, and was appointed 
Viceroy of India in succession to Lord WiUingdon in 1936. His 
twin sons are great friends of ours. As is well known, the younger 
twin, John, was the best runner of his day at Eton and Oxford. 

At the end of January 1886 , 1 visited Russia in company with 
Colonel Ralph Vivian, late of the Scots Guards; and we were 
joined en route by Lord Wiltshire, afterwards Marquess of Win- 
chester, Captain Vesey Dawson, Coldstream Guards, and Count 
Gleichen, Grenadier Guards. We travelled Berlin, crossing the 


frontier at Eydtkuhnen, and arrived at St. Petersburg after 
a very long and tedious journey. There were no restaurant 
cars in those days, and we had to leave the very warm, steam- 
heated railway-carriage, to obtain meals in the refreshment 
rooms at the stations through which we passed. I remember how 
surprised I was when I found my moustache stiff with frost, 
as soon as I set foot on the platform. There was snow all the 
way to St. Petersburg, and the journey through unending pine 
forests was very monotonous. When we arrived at St. Petersburg 
we stayed at the Hotel de P Europe, in the Nevsky Prospekt, one 
of the most magnificent streets in the world. We called on the 
British Ambassador, Sir Robert Morier, and he very kindly 
invited us to dinner. The Embassy stood on the bank of the 
Neva, and was a very fine house. The river was frozen, and we 
sleighed over it instead of crossing by bridges, to the islands, 
where there were fashionable restaurants in which gypsies 
played their stirring music. 

The hotels and houses were extremely hot and we wore our 
ordinary English clothes, but with thick fur coats, fur caps and 
goloshes out of doors. The windows were all double, and were 
very often stuffed with cotton-wool to prevent draughts. Exer- 
cise was almost impossible, which, combined with the heat of 
the rooms and the rich food, made life not altogether healthy. 

Soon after we arrived, Ralph and I sent our courier to the 
Customs House for our rifles, which we had sent on in advance. 
When he returned he said that the rifles and ammunition were 
there, but that the authorities refused to hand them over. One 
of them, however, had whispered to him that if he came back 
with a ten-pound note, no doubt all would be well. As we had 
come to Russia to shoot bears, we thought it better to pay the 
money and say no more about it. 

Ralph Vivian and I knew Col. the Hon. Fred Wellesley of the 
Coldstream Guards. He had been Military Attache at the 
British Embassy, and during the Russo-Turkish War had served 
on the staff of General Skobelev, accompanied him during his 
famous march through the Balkans, and was present at the 


AND JOHN, 1912 

RUSSIA, 1886 

Above: Portland, Dr. Garrick and Col. R. Vivian 
Below: Bear-Spearing 

siege of Plevna. Colonel Wellesley’s friend Dr. Garrick/ a Scot 
who had lived in Russia for many years, arranged a bear shoot- 
ing expedition for us. We went by train to Tver, a station half 
way between St. Petersburg and Moscow, Dr. Garrick accom- 
panying us as interpreter and organiser of the expedition. 

I should explain that professional hunters advise an agent in 
St. Petersburg of the presence of a bear or bears, in their neigh- 
bourhood; and Dr. Garrick had bespoken all the bears near 
Tver. The hunter searches for bear tracks in the snow; and, 
when he finds a track, he follows it up until he is close to the 
animal, which usually hibernates in a wood. He then makes a 
wide circle to see whether there are any signs that the bear has 
left the wood. If there are none, he waits for a week or ten days, 
and then again looks for tracks. If the snow is still without tracks 
he knows that the bear has hibernated in the wood, and will re- 
main asleep until the following spring. 

We left Tver at night, in pony-sledges, and drove to a village 
near which a bear had been located. There we were met on the 
following morning by a hunter and the villagers he had engaged 
to act as beaters, who were armed with bells and other things 
with which they could make a great noise. The beaters were 
placed in a semi-circle round the bear’s lair, at some little dis- 
tance firom it, and Golonel Vivian and I took up our positions 
behind trees. The hunter, accompanied by two dogs, then went 
into the ring to look for the bear. When he found the lair, which 
was usually a big hole under the roots of a fallen tree,, he threw a 
squib into it; and the sleepy bear, with loud grunts, came slowly 
out and stood erect. The hunter fired his gun as a signal for the 
beaters to make as much noise as possible; and the bear waded 
through the snow, in the direction where the noise was least, the 
hunter escaping from him on his snow shoes. From our stands it 
was quite exciting to watch the snow falling firom the tops of the 
trees and bushes as the bear passed underneath them. After a 

^Dr. Gaxrick had a dinic for consumptive patients on the steppes of Russia, where 
he fed his patients on koumiss or mare’s milk. Colonel Wellesley’s wife, formerly 
Kate Vaughan the actress, was a patient there. 


minute or two he suddenly appeared in the open space before 
us, where a clearing of about twenty square yards had been 
made. He provided an easy mark; and the sport did not seem to 
me very dangerous, because the bear could move only slowly 
through the deep snow. However, there was rather an exciting 
moment when Colonel Vivian, having fired at a bear, lost his 
footing and fell up to his neck in snow. The bear seemed about to 
attack him, so I left the shelter of my tree, and waded through 
the snow to protect him. The bear then turned in my direction, 
but I reserved my fire until he was scrambling through a thick 
bush about ten yards away, and then shot him through the heart. 
I was holding my rifle ready to give him the coup de grdce if he 
rose again, when I heard a loud bang, and a puff of smoke from 
below my arm came up into my face. My Russian loader had 
seized my second rifle and, while I was holding mine in readi- 
ness, had fired under my arm at the dead bear. There was even 
a powder mark on my light-coloured fur-lined coat. Fortunately 
the Russian could not speak English, so he did not understand the 
names I called him, though I hope he felt the weight of my boot ! 

I think we travelled about 150 miles by sledge and pursued 
the sport for nearly three weeks, moving from one village to 
another. Dr. Garrick had a map marked with the places where 
bears had been located. We sometimes spent a night in a house 
in the village, when the family samovar was at once brought out 
and we drank the most excellent weak and light-coloured tea. 
Some of these samovars, which were usually of copper, were old 
and quite beautiful. If none of the houses was sufficiently clean 
we camped in kibitkas, circular Kerghese tents made of felt. We 
slept in fur bags on mattresses, dressing and undressing in the 
bags, for the weather was bitterly cold, the thermometer 
registering many degrees below zero [fahrenheit). Of course there 
was no possibility of shaving, and Httle enough of washing. We 
took a quantity of frozen game, meat and other stores with us 
from St. Petersburg, Dr. Garrick arranging for our meals to 
be cooked at the various villages. Bear-steak proved to be most 
excellent eating. 


In Russian coats 



Colonel Vivian and I were charmed and impressed by 
the kindness, hospitality, and especially the simplicity of the 
peasants who acted as our beaters and occasionally as our hosts. 
The universal samovar was always produced in our honour, and 
nothing our hosts could do seemed to be too much trouble for 
them. In some of the houses there were really beautiful old 
ikons, which their owners regarded with sentimental and, to 
English minds, perhaps rather superstitious respect. Many of the 
peasants, too, had pictures of most of the rulers of the different 
European countries. Of course the Tsar (whom they then 
regarded as their ‘little father’) and the Tseiritsa held the most 
prominent place, with Queen Victoria next. One old couple 
pointed to a portrait of Queen Victoria and said, ‘That must 
indeed be a terrible and powerful woman.’ I asked why 
they thought so, and my heart filled with pride when they 
answered, ‘She is the only person in the whole world of whom 
the Tsar is at all afraid.’ I did my best to explain that, though 
no doubt she wielded enormous and just influence, Her 
Majesty was anything but terrible, and that she radiated good- 
ness and kindness, being the pivot around which the great 
British Empire revolved. 

In the middle of our tour two mounted policemen appeared, 
who told us they had been sent by the Government to see that 
we had everything we wanted; but I am fairly sure that they 
were really sent to find out what we were doing. After remaining 
for two or three days, they disappeared as suddenly as they 
had come. 

It was altogether a most enjoyable and interesting experi- 
ence. The bears were valued at so much per pood'^ and I think 
our total bag was ten or twelve bears. We saw a wolf one day, 
but neither of us had a shot at it. I was told of an Englishman 
resident at St. Petersburg, who was an extremely powerful and 
courageous man. He hunted and killed bears, armed only with a 
spear on a very strong pole. About a foot and a half from the end 
of the spear was a crossbar. When the bear stood on its hind legs 

H.e., about 36 lb. av. 



and charged, he placed the spear so that the bear impaled itself 
upon it, and then shot it through the head with a revolver. 
This seemed to me to be a more sporting way of killing bears 
than the one we were shown. 

We then returned to St. Petersburg, and all of us, Vivian and I 
and the others who had remained, attended two Court balls. 
At the first of these, held in the huge Winter Palace, I believe 
there were no less than two or three thousand guests. It was 
a most wonderful scene. The Palace was crowded with resplen- 
dent figures, and the jewellery of the ladies was dazzling in the 
extreme, though rather barbaric, consisting as it did, for a 
great part, of cabochon stones. The Cossack officers and the 
officers of the Imperial Guard looked magnificent in their uni- 
forms; and there were Princes from the Asiatic provinces in 
their national dress. The Ambassadors of the various Courts 
were drawn up round the great ballroom, each with a group of 
guests to be presented to the Emperor and Empress. When all 
were assembled the great doors at the end of the room were 
thrown open, and the Tsar and Tsaritsa appeared hand in 
hand, with the Court officials following. They made the circle 
of the room, stopping to speak to each Ambassador. During this 
part of the ceremonial a military band played a polonaise. 
Afterwards, the ball continued exactly like a Court ball in 
any other country. When the time for supper came the whole 
company sat down at long tables. In a comer of every room 
was a great silver cistern full of champagne, which was ladled 
into glasses by servants in Court liveries. The Tsar visited 
each room to see that everyone had a seat at supper, and said a 
few words of kindly greeting. Their Imperial Majesties then 

I also attended a ball in one of the smaller palaces. It was 
called a palm ball, because the supper was served at round 
tables, each under a palm tree. It was a very pretty sight, 
though not on the same large scale as the ball in the Winter 

From St. Petersburg we went to Moscow, where I had the 


pleasure and honour of again seeing the Grand Duchess Serge, 
whom I had known and admired in former days at Eastbourne. 
She seemed to me more beautiful than ever. We intended 
travelling to Moscow by night, and before we set out I said to 
Ralph, ‘Let us go to the station in warmth and comfort,’ So 
we hired a closed carriage with a pair of black horses, and 
our servants and baggage were sent on in front. Ralph and 
I entered the carriage, and very soon the horses ran away. 
The police rushed out, thinking perhaps that we were es- 
caping nihilists. When the horses were stopped, I said to one 
of the policemen, ‘Europeiskaya Gostinitsa’, wishing to explain 
that we came from the H6tel de I’Europe. To my astonishment 
he replied in excellent English, ‘All right; is that where you 
want to go?’ I rephed, ‘No, we want to go to Moscow.’ ‘Very 
well,’ he said; ‘jump on this sledge, and I will direct you to the 
station’ — ^for in the meantime our horses had fallen and broken 
the carriage. It is needless to add that the Russians are among 
the best linguists in the world. Of course we saw the Kremlin 
and all the other sights of Moscow; and I was very much 
struck by the appearance of some of the streets, where the 
palaces of the nobles stood side by side with small houses, some 
of them thatched, inhabited by very poor residents. Two or 
three of the restaurants in Moscow were quite palatial, but 
I did not like some of the food they supplied. Zakouska, con- 
sisting of every kind of hors d’oeuvre and washed down with 
vodka, I much appreciated; but the fish soups and fish omelets 
were not to my taste at all. 

The railway fine from St. Petersburg to Moscow is absolutely 
straight. I believe it was made in this way because, when the 
line was being planned, several districts quarrelled as to which 
route it should take. The Tsar demanded to be shown a map. 
He then drew a line direct from St. Petersburg to Moscow and 
said, ‘I will have no more quarrelling. That is the route it shall 

From Moscow we returned to St. Petersburg where we attended 
a magnificent service in the great Cathedral of St. Isaac. I much 


admired the wonderful bass voices, and the splendid vestments of 
the priests of the Greek Church, most of whom had long black 
beards. Outside the cathedral was a fine mounted statue of 
Peter the Great. 

I remember a curious experience I had, two or three days 
after we arrived in St. Petersburg. I was in a droshky, when the 
driver suddenly picked up a handful of snow, with which he 
rubbed my ears. I was very much astonished, but Dr. Garrick 
explained that my ears had turned blue, and that the man 
wished to restore the circulation before they became frost- 

Lord Wiltshire, Colonel Dawson and Count Gleichen were 
invited to lunch at the mess of the Preobajensky Guards. 
They all attended in their Foot Guards uniform. They said 
that during the luncheon their healths were drunk from finger 
glasses, in very sweet champagne. When luncheon was over 
they were thrown out of the window and caught in the arms of 
the bandsmen, who gently placed them on their feet. 

We returned to England at the end of March, breaking the 
journey at Dresden, where we saw great blocks of ice floating 
down the river Elbe, which appeared likely to carry away the 
main bridge. It was a cold and monotonous journey, the winter 
being very late all over the Continent and in England too. 
In fact, there was snow all die way from St. Petersburg to 

My wife and I paid our first visit to Vienna in the summer of 
1894. I remember it particularly well, because we made the 
acquaintance of Prince and Princess Clary, then Count and 
Countess Siegfiied Clary, who became our intimate and very 
dear fidends, as are their charming children, Alphy, now Prince 
Clary, Elizabeth Alexandrina (Elisalexi), Countess de Baillet 
Latour, and Countess Sophie Clary (Foffa). Colonel Douglas 
Dawson was Military Attach6 at the British Embassy, and he 
acted as our guide, philosopher and friend: in fact, we went to 
Vienna at his invitation, to make the acquaintance of his charm- 



^ ing Austrian friends, many of whom I had- already met in the 
hunting-field in England. 

A CarrousseP- in support of charity took place in the Spanish 
riding school. It represented the return of the Emperor Charles 
VI in 1718, after his victorious campaign in Spain. H.I.M 
the Emperor Franz Joseph was present in the Royal box at 
the end of the riding school. Goimtess Clary, looking ex- 
tremely beautiful, represented the Empress Elizabeth Christiana, 
and was seated in the State coach used by that Empress. 
She found it rather a trying experience, because, what with 
the swaying of the coach and a little migraine owing to the 
presence of the Emperor, when the performance was over she 
not only felt, but was, extremely unwell. Young Count Schon- 
bom-Buchheim represented the Emperor Charles VI, and I 
believe he felt rather unwell too ! There were several equestrian 
quadrilles; and after these, the officers of the Artillery School, 
wearing uniforms of the period, drove some of the guns actually 
used in the campaign, performing the most intricate manoeuvres. 
Prince Rudolph Liechtenstein, then Master of the Imperial 
Horse, organised and superintended the whole performance. 
When that part of the pageant was over, a display of haute ecole 
riding was given by the riding masters of the Imperial stables. 
They were mounted on Lipizzaner stallions, and made their 
horses go through much the same exercises as were described 
and illustrated by my ancestor, William Cavendish, Duke of 
Newcastle, in his MouveUe Mithode de dresser les chevaux^ published 
at Antwerp in 1658. 

At a Court ceremony, the Emperor Franz Joseph not only 
bowed to Countess Clary, but stopped and shook hands with 
her. This was a mark of special favour, as the number of people 
present on these occasions made it impossible for H.I.M. to 
greet more than a very few. The Countess was in the seventh 
heaven of delight, as she had a romantic admiration for the 
Emperor — who, I may say, was old enough to be her grand- 
father. She expressed her great pleasure to her very old friend 

a tournament. 


Prince Liechtenstein, the personal A.D.C. to and confidant of 
and asked him whether the Emperor had said any- 
thing nice about her. ‘Yes, he did,’ replied Liechtenstein; ‘He 
asked me, “Who was that funny little monkey who got in my 
way and insisted upon shaking hands with me just now?” ’ 

Of the many charming Austrians, men and women, whom 
we met. Prince Auersperg is certainly one of the most 
attractive. His wife was a sister of Charles Kinsky, whose other 
sisters married Prince Montenuovo, Count Wilczek and Count 
Czernin. He visited us at Langwell several times, for deer- 
stalking, and is a keen sportsman and a very good shot. 

Nobody could be kinder than Prince and Princess Kinsky 
and their three sons, Charles, Rudolph, and Ferdinand. Charles, 
as is well known, won the Grand National in 1883, on his 
own mare Zoedone; and he was an annual visitor to England 
during the hunting season, until the Great War. He was for 
many years attached to the Austro-Hungarian Embassy in 
London, where he was entirely at home, for most of us regarded 
him as one of ourselves. Ferdinand Kinsky acted as Deputy 
Master of the Horse to his uncle. Prince Rudolph Liechtenstein, 
at the time of the Carroussel; and when Liechtenstein was 
appointed head of the Imperial Court, Ferdinand succeeded 
him as Master of the Horse. 

I remember an amusing story about Count Larisch, whom I 
met in Vienna, and who was several times our welcome guest at 
Welbeck. He wore the national costume, as in the photograph 
here reproduced, to go to a fair. Two or three young relations 
went with him, and he gave them money with which to enjoy 
themselves. At the fair, there was a voting competition to decide 
who was the handsomest man in Austria; and the young men 
spent all their money in buying votes for Larisch — ^who was 
eventually elected ! He was completely taken in and, no doubt, 
much pleased at what he regarded as an unsolicited tribute to 
his good looks. 

We were most hospitably and kindly entertained in Vienna. I 
remember in particular a large dinner-party given by Prince and 


Princess Kinsky, at which many leading members of Viennese 
society were present. The gentlemen of course gave their arms 
to the ladies in to dinner and when it was over, as is the fashion 
on the Continent. Rather to our surprise, when we arrived in the 
drawing room the older ladies, of whom there were eight or nine 
present, at once lighted large cigars, like those known in 
London to the young men of the time as ‘roofers’. The younger 
ladies smoked cigarettes. Our hostess offered me a cigar; and, 
though rather fearful of the consequences, I accepted and lit it. 
Very soon afterwards, I felt a touch on my shoulder, and Prince 
Kinsky said, ‘Did my wife give you that cigar?’ ‘Yes, she did,’ 

I repKed. ‘Well then,’ said my host, ‘throw it away; for I zim sure 
it is much too strong for you. I know I can’t smoke my wife’s 
cigars.’ ‘No,’ I replied, ‘I can’t do that. The Princess would think 
me rude.’ ‘Come into my room,’ said the Prince, ‘and bring the 
cigar with you.’ He then insisted on my throwing it into the fire 
and gave me one of his own cigars, which was certainly a great 
deal milder. It was very odd to see these great ladies, wearing 
their family jewels and enjoying their cigars. One of them. 
Countess Harrach, smoked a hookah, she told me, but only at 
home. She said she considered it the most pleasant form of 
smoking she knew. 

There were small scented lamps on the tables, which 
seemed to collect the smoke and cause it to evaporate. Every 
lamp, besides the flame, contained a small piece of metal 
which became white-hot. They were left burning all night, and 
the rooms were quite fresh in the morning. I brought some of 
these lamps back to London, and they had quite a vogue 
for a time. 

At balls, the young ladies arrived with their mothers or other 
chaperons, and were then relegated to a room called the 
Contessen Salon. To this room their partners went and invited 
them to dance, escorting them back to it when the dance was 
over. They did not sit out, during or after a dance, as is the 
EngHsh custom. I have never anywhere else heard such beauti- 
ful music or seen such exquisite dancing as in Vienna and 


Buda-Pesth ballrooms ; but, of course, it was the home of the 
Strauss family and the Blue Danube and other valses were played 
to perfection. 

In 1896 — ^it was the year of Persimmon’s Derby — Bob Crewe, 
Algy Lennox and I visited Buda-Pesth for the millenary cele- 
brations of the Hungarian nation. We travelled via Ostend to 
Vienna, where we engaged a Hungarian courier named Kugler. 
He had been reconamended to me by Sir Arthur ElKs, who 
said, ‘I assure you, my dear fellow, he will take as much care of 
you as if you were the Crown Princess about to be delivered 
of an Heir to the Throne !’ 

At Buda-Pesth there was a wonderful procession of Cardinals 
in six-horse coaches, and the nobiUty in their family costumes, 
some in chain-armour, others covered with jewels, riding beauti- 
fully caparisoned horses. The procession formed on a plain 
outside Buda, and passed the Castle and the Palace, where the 
Emperor Franz Joseph was standing on a balcony. It then 
crossed the Danube to Pesth, where the new Parliament build- 
ings, not unlike those at Westminster, were formally opened, 
finally returning to the Palace, where the nobles dismounted. 
Bob, Algy and I stood among them, and were very kindly 
received; but, dressed as we were in frock-coats and high hats, 
we felt singularly out of place amid so much medieval splendour. 

I noticed that some of the nobles either had their arms in 
slings, or were bandaged. When I asked the reason, I was told 
that there had been an epidemic of duels during the preceding 
winter and spring, arising from excited political discussions at 
the casino or clubs. Count Stephan Karolyi, who I think was 
a half-brother of Count Elemir Batthyany, was one of the duel- 
lists. Elemir Batthyany fought many duels too. He was a son of 
the celebrated Count Louis Batthyany who, with many others, 
was executed after the Kossuth Rising in 1848. In consequence, 
Elemir would not attend any ceremony at which the Emperor 
Franz Joseph was present. 

There were many beautiful women present at the millenary 
celebrations; but I thought, and still think, that Countess 


Karolyi, whose husband was for many years Austro-Hungarian 
Ambassador in London, then a widow and no longer in her first 
youth, was one of the most beautiful and certainly one of the 
most charming of them all. 

After a pleasant stay in Pesth, we went on to Keszthely On the 
Platensee, as the guests of Count and Countess (afterwards 
Prince and Princess) Festetics. I have already, in Chapter IX 
of my Memories of Racing and Htmting, given some accoimt of 
the racing stables at Keszthely. We were shown a curious 
herd of long-horned cattle. Count Festetics maintained a 
beautiful string-band, the performers being employees on his 
large estates. He took us to Berzencze, his famous deer-forest. 
Though I was not fortunate enough to see any stags, I saw 
several hinds, which seemed to be as large as big Scottish stags. 

Duels were very common in Austria and Hungary at the 
time. I will give two instances of the length to which the prac- 
tice was carried. Ralph Milbanke, then Consul-General at 
Buda-Pesth and later Minister at Vienna, told me he was 
dining at the casino, when he noticed a Hungarian friend 
sitting alone at a table. After dinner, Milbanke went across and 
spoke to him. His friend replied, T’m going to bed early to- 
night, because I have to fight a duel tomorrow morning; and as 
my opponent is a great blackguard, I intend to leave my mark 
on him.’ He then wished good-night to Milbanke, who said, 
*Good-night, I shall hope to see you here again tomorrow 
evening.’ They met on the following night, and Milbanke asked 
what had happened. ‘We fired three shots at one another,’ 
replied his friend; ‘but, though I’m a fairly good pistol shot, I 
couldn’t wing him. However I’ll get him one day yet,’ A month 
or so later, Milbanke met him again. The Hungarian said, quite 
lightly, ‘Do you remember that duel I told you about? Well, 
I got the fellow last week.’ 

Milbanke, who was very short-sighted, told me that he was 
one day walking in the Prater with a ficiend, and failed to see a 
young officer who saluted him as he passed. On his companion 
pointing this out, Milbanke turned round and waved his hand; 


but the gesture was made too late to be noticed. When Milbanke 
reached home he found two Cavalry officers waiting for him, 
who said they had come on behalf of their brother-officer, 
young Count X. ‘Oh!’ said Milbanke; ‘and what about?’ 
‘Count X says you deliberately cut him this morning, by failing 
to acknowledge his salute, and he demands satisfaction for the 
insult.’ ‘But that is utter nonsense,’ said Milbanke. ‘I am very 
short-sighted, as you know, and I was talking to a friend of mine 
when Count X passed. I did not notice him; but my friend 
told me he had saluted me, so I turned round and waved my 
hand. I had not the smallest intention of being discourteous.’ 
To this, one of the officers replied, ‘We thought, from what we 
know of you, that something of the sort must have occurred. 
Evidently the whole affair is a pack of nonsense. Please accept 
our apologies, and leave the matter to us. If our young friend is 
so anxious to fight, we can oblige him. It will do him good to 
lose a little blood.’ Milbanke asked them not to think any more 
about it; but they said, ‘The damned fool of a boy needs a 
lesson. He must not be allowed to behave in this way.’ 

In Vienna, I saw a young man with his head bandaged. 
I asked Douglas Dawson who he was, and what was the 
matter, and was told, ‘It is Goxmt Y, a Himgarian. He had an 
affair of honour with a fellow-countryman the other day.’ ‘What 
about?’ I asked. ^Cherchez lafemme^ no doubt.’ ‘Not at all,’ re- 
plied Dawson. ‘Duels are hardly ever fought over ladies. The 
dispute is generally poHtical; but in this case it was because, 
on leaving the Opera House, Count Y found the other fellow 
in his fiacre. As he did not get out at once, they fought a duel 
next morning with sabres, and were both severely wounded.’ 

The Prince of Wales, afterwards King Edward VII, honoured 
me by an invitation to be a member of his staff during the cele- 
brations to be held in Vienna in 1898, in honour of the 
Jubilee of the Emperor Franz Joseph. H.R.H. said, ‘I under- 
stand that you have been presented to the Emperor, and that 
you know a great many people in Vienna: so I thought you 
would enjoy it.’ The festivities were to have taken place in 


November; but they were abandoned, owing to the assassina- 
tion of the Empress Elizabeth at Geneva. 

I visited Hungary again in 1913, with my wife and my 
daughter Victoria, We stayed first at Vienna — ^where we 
attended several balls, of which two, given by Prince Elinsky 
and Prince Auersperg, stand out in my memory — and we then 
went to Buda-Pesth. My wife and Victoria attended a ball 
there, at which they both danced the czardas, and did not 
return until seven o’clock in the morning. When I awoke, I 
found my bathroom one mass of flowers, which they had 
received as presents during the cotillon. While at Pesth 
we visited the Palace at Buda, and saw, among other things, 
the little black silk bodice, with a tiny hole over the heart, 
which the Empress Elizabeth wore when she was assassi- 

We also visited Prague, a lovely old town. There we attended 
a ball given for us by Prince Lobkowitz, Governor of the City. 
When we arrived, a row of young men was drawn up to be pre- 
sented to us. To our astonishment, nearly every one of them was 
a Prince or Count Lobkowitz. The ball was extremely brilHant, 
and beautiful valses were danced, as in Vienna. We visited the 
HradCany, which is the old part of Prague, on a higher level. 
It contains a fine Cathedral, and the old Palace of the Bangs 
of Bohemia. Some of the rooms in the Palace were allotted 
to ladies, known as chanoinesses, among whom was Countess 
Chotek, a sister of Sophie, Duchess of Hohenberg, the wife of 
the Archduke Franz Ferdinand, then heir to the Throne. From 
Prague, we visited the Archduke at Konopischt. We were most 
kiniy received, and were much interested in the curios and art 
treasures which he had collected from all parts of the world. He 
gave a tea-party for us in his beautiful forest. The ladies danced, 
and I stalked a roebuck which, I regret to say, I ignominiously 

The Duchess of Hohenberg was, and Coimtess Chotek is, a 
cousin of Princess Clary. I was told that if by chance the family 
had owned a small property near their home, they would have 


been mediatised;^ and then there would have been no difficulty 
about their intermarriage with the Imperial family. The 
Duchess of Hohenberg was a most charming woman; in many 
ways like Princess Clary, who always called her Sopherl. 

The Archduke subsequently visited us twice at Welbeck. 
His first visit was in May, 1912, after the big Flower Show at 
Chelsea, of which I was the President. When he was our guest 
for the second time, the Emperor conferred upon me the Grand 
Cross of the Order of St. Stephen of Hungary, one of the 
highest Orders in the Empire. I believe Lord Rosebery was 
the only other Englishman to whom it was given. For further 
mention of the Archduke, the reader is referred to Elisalex 
de Baillet’s interesting notes on pp.328-333. 

When my wife, Victoria and I were staying at the hotel at Gap 
Martin we were invited to luncheon by the Empress Eugenie at 
her villa, which was close by. When we arrived, I atternpted to 
kiss the Empress’s hand, but she gently stopped me, saying, 
‘Non, non. Point de r6v6rences. Le temps pour cela est pass6 
depuis longtemps.’ I need hardly say that we had a pleasant and 
interesting limcheon. The Empress’s lady-in-waiting, who was 
also her friend and had been with her for many years, told me 
that when H.M. passed through Paris, she often sat on a chair 
in the Tuileries gardens and paid her sou like anyone else. I 
thought what a wonderful experience it must be for her who, 
when Empress of the French, had lived in great splendour in 
the Tuileries Palace, and had doubtless walked many times 
through those very gardens. But perhaps — ^who knows? — ^H.M. 
was happier sitting on a chair for which she had paid a sou than 
when she sat on the Throne. 

A few years later, when in Madrid, we were invited to dine 
with the Duke of Alba at his beautiful house, the Palacio de 
Liria. We were shown into a drawing room, and there found 
the Empress, who was the Duke of Alba’s great-aunt, sitting 

^Many Austrian families became ebenbuertig, which means equal by birth, through 
the possession of Sovereign territory in Germany before 1805. Some of the Sovereign 
territories were very small, and could be easily acquired. 


Above: H.I.H. the Archduke Franz Ferdinand 
Below: Countess Schonburg, Major Baker-Garr, Victoria Bentinck, 
Portland, Duchess of Hohenberg, Winifred Portland, Archduke 
Franz Ferdinand, Count Schonburg 


Copyright by E. Manuel Hutschnecker 

on a sofa beneath a portrait of herself by Winterhalter, painted 
when she was at the zenith of her beauty. Although H.M. 
was very old, one could still trace the fine features, aquiline 
nose, and arched eyebrows. It was an interesting experience 
to see H.M. as she was, and as she had been when Empress of 
the French. She explained that she had seated herself there on 

The Duke of Alba’s house^ was a museum of artistic and 
historical treasures. I remember in particular the great collec- 
tion of armour, and wonderful pictures. Cages containing 
nightingales hung on the stairs. They were closely covered over 
with green baize, but the Duke told us the birds sang quite 
beautifully, and were, I believe, released when the proper 
time came. The Duke, who is himself a direct descendant of 
Christopher Columbus, showed us, among many other treasures, 
a small sketch-map which Columbus drew of his first sight of 

The Duke of Alba is also Duke of Berwick, and claims descent 
from the first Duke of Berwick, a natural son of James II. He 
was my guest at Welbeck in 1905, and I have the most pleasant 
recollections of his charm and good looks. He speaks English 
like an Englishman, and I think was educated at a school in 
this coimtry. I also knew his father, who sometimes came to 
Newmarket; I remember his driving to the races in a very smart 
carriage, with a high-stepping horse. The Duke is known to his 
many friends in this country as ‘Jimmy d’Albe’. 

I have often visited Holland, and have had many enjoyable 
motor tours with my cousin Godard Bentinck. One of the most 
interesting was through the dead cities of the Zuyder Zee, 
north of Amsterdam, which contain many fine old brick houses, 
some of them bearing dates of the sixteenth century. We then 
crossed the Zuyder Zee in a ferry-boat at Enkhuisen to Zwolle, 
where we passed the night. 

II learn with deep regret that it has been burned during the civil war, and that 
many of the treasures which it contained have been destroyed. 


I had lately acted as President of a very large Flower Show 
in London, at which there were many floral and vegetable 
exhibits from Holland. In the morning, rather to my horror, 
a deputation came, headed by the Burgomaster of Zwolle, 
desiring to express their pleasure at my presence in the town. 
They described me as ‘one of the greatest protectors of flowers 
and vegetables in England’, and asked me to honour them by 
accepting the largest vegetable-marrow I have ever seen. Of 
course I was very grateful, both for their good wishes and their 
present; and we drove away in triumph with the vegetable- 
marrow firmly fixed to the bonnet of my car. I am afraid, how- 
ever, that when we were a safe distance from the town it was 
consigned to a watery grave in the nearest canal. By that time 
it was smelling sky-high, as the weather was very hot indeed. I 
may say that I have never been a great admirer of vegetable- 
marrows, either from a spectacular or gastronomic point of 
view. Since then, I have positively loathed them. 

Though not in general a great lover of life on the ocean wave 
— ^for I prefer to admire it from the land, as we do atLangwell — 
I fully realise the charm of a tour by sea, particularly when it is 
a little off the beaten track. So my wife and I gladly accepted 
the invitation of our old and kind friend, the late Duke of Suther- 
land, to cruise with him on his charming 650-ton steam yacht, 
the R.Y.S. Catania. The Duke often leased the yacht for the 
winter months, generally to Americans, but on the condition 
that it should be returned to one of the Mediterranean ports, in 
time for his own use in the spring. 

On the first occasion, the Duke arranged that my wife and I, 
Alice Grenfell, Frank Mildmay and Major Baker-Garr should 
meet the yacht at Venice, where we lived in her for three or 
four days. From there we crossed the Adriatic, visiting all the 
most interesting places including the Bocchi di Gattaro, and 
then proceeded down the Dalmatian coast to Gorfu, passing 
through the Gorinth Ganad to Athens, and so on to Gonstanti- 
nople. We returned through the Greek Islands, and along the 


French Riviera to Toulon, where we left the yacht and returned 

For our second cruise, we joined the Catania at Mentone, and 
proceeded, by Genoa, the Italian Riviera, Elba, Naples and 
Sorrento, to Capri, where we visited the charming villa belong- 
ing to Blanchie Lennox. From there we sailed round Sicily; but 
on our way we were storm-bound at the island of Favignana, 
where we saw most interesting though rather sanguinary tunny- 

During a third cruise, having joined the yacht at Marseilles, 
we steamed past Minorca and Majorca to Cartagena, whence 
we made an expedition to the Alhambra. After that, we proceeded 
to Gibraltar, Algeciras and Tangier; then back to Algeciras, 
and through the Straits of Gibraltar till we reached the mouth 
of the Guadalquivir, up which we sailed to Seville. 

These short voyages were most dehghtful, and provided a 
perfect means of sight-seeing, for one travelled like a snail — 
though not so slowly — ^with one’s house, so to speak, on one’s 
back. After accumulating dust, fleas and other horrors during 
the day, it was very pleasant to return to the yacht and find 
a good, hot bath and our own comfortable beds awaiting us. 
Black Charlie, the steward, a negro brought home by the late 
Duke of Sutherland’s father, was a most capable and excellent 

When the War broke out, the Government took over the 
Catania and used her for coast-watching. After the War, I 
beheve the Greek Government bought her; and, when last 
I heard of her, she was employed in the currant- trade, carrying 
cargoes from Corinth. 



I venture to call this chapter ‘The Ark’ because, like Noah’s 
ark of old, its contents are of all sorts, sizes and descrip- 

This reminds me that, when Sir John Astley (‘the Mate’) 
attended a Tenants’ Show luncheon in the riding school at Wel- 
beck, he returned thanks for the visitors, A General Election had 
recently taken place, when the Conservative Party met with a 
heavy defeat, Sir John himself losing his seat for one of the 
divisions of Lincolnshire. When he stood up to speak, which he 
did with one foot on a chair and the other on the table, he said, 
‘My friend the Black and White Duck^ has advised me not to talk 
politics. If I don’t do so, I shall have nothing to say, so I shall 
pay no attention to his advice. So ’ere goes! You all know there 
has just been an election; and, in my humble opinion, some 
damned rum atoms have been returned to Parliament. Our old 
friend Noah had some rum “atoms in his ark; and it seems to me 
that the so-called G.O.M. and the new House of Commons are 
in very much the same case. Well — after forty days old Noah 
and his ark bumped on Mount Ararat, when you will remember 
that Noah said to his atoms, “Go forth, multiply, and populate 
the earth,” All I can say is, I hope to goodness old Gladstone 
won’t give the same advice to his atoms, when his bump comes, 
because we’ve got a damned sight too many of their sort about 

When Queen Victoria visited her grandson the Grand Duke 
of Hesse, at Darmstadt, the carriage provided for Her Majesty 

^His nickname for me, because my racing colours are black and white. 


June, igi2 



R.Y.S. Catania, Corinth Canal 
Below: R.Y.S. CATANIA, 1906 

was drawn by four blue-roan horses, driven from the box, and 
not ridden by postihons as was the custom when she drove out 
at home. The Queen was so pleased with these carriage horses 
that, when she returned, H.M. ordered Sir Henry Ewart, the 
Grown Equerry, to tell me that she wished horses of that colour 
to be procured, and a skilful four-horse whip to be engaged to 
drive them. It was no easy task to find four suitable blue-roans ; 
but in due course they were procured, and a very capable 
coachman named Burnham was engaged. The Queen was so 
particular about these carriage horses, and so observant, that 
when a hghter coloured roan was harnessed as leader, H.M. at 
once protested that it was not of the right colour. When King 
Edward came to the throne these horses were sold, as H.M. 
preferred bay horses to be used in all his carriages, with the 
exception of a few greys which were kept at Windsor for the 
State processions up the course at Ascot. 

This reminds me of a somewhat exciting incident which 
occurred on one of the off-days at Ascot, when we drove from 
Windsor Castle to the races in carriages without State liveries, 
and without a procession up the course. His Majesty decided 
to use one of the old charabancs, which had been at Windsor 
since the time of the Prince Consort, and had never, or hardly 
ever, been used since then; and Burnham was ordered to drive 
four of the big bay harness horses from the box. He brought 
the carriage to the door, and I noticed that not only were there 
brand-new, hard, sHppery reins in his hands, but that he was 
wearing tight, new gloves. I said to myself, T’m afraid you’re 
in for trouble, my man’ — but of course it was then too late to 
make any change. 

In the carriage were His Majesty, M. de Soveral, Lord 
Pembroke and myself. We led the procession, followed by four 
or five other carriages with postihons. All went well, though I 
could see from Burnham’s back that he was not altogether com- 
fortable, until we passed the gates across the Long Walk. Then 
I noticed that he put his driving-whip into the socket, which is 
always a bad sign, and we began to go faster and faster, until 
T 289 

H.M. said quietly to me, ‘Hadn’t you better tell him not to 
drive so fast?’ By this time, Burnham was using both hands on 
the reins, and shortly afterwards the footman on the box began 
to pull too. All four horses had broken into a gallop, while the 
carriage was swaying from side to side, and we were soon off 
the road and on the grass. 

By a tremendous effort, Burnham and the footman managed 
to stop the horses. The King seemed quite unperturbed, and 
it was with great difficulty that he was persuaded to change 
into another carriage. Before he did so, H.M. said, ‘Be sure to 
bring the carriage and horses on to the races, as I mean to 
drive home in it.’ 

Colonel Brocklehurst, one of the Equerries — a first-class 
horseman — and I then had the leaders detached, and I drove the 
wheelers from the box myself to the races. Being no longer 
excited by the leaders in front of them, they went quite quietly; 
and the only difficulty was that lavender kid gloves, however 
smart they may appear, are not the best things to wear when 
driving rather fractious horses. However, in due course we ar- 
rived at Ascot, hot, dusty, and rather uncomfortable altogether. 

I at once went to the King, who said with a laugh, ‘Hullo ! 
I’m glad you’ve got here all right. Let’s hope for better luck on 
the way home!’ I begged H.M. not to drive home in the same 
carriage, but he said, ‘Of course I shall, or poor Burnham will 
feel hurt, and will think I am reflecting on his skill as a driver.’ 

During the afternoon, one of my horses beat H.M.’s horse, 
which had started a hot favourite- I believe that was the only 
time in my life I did not enjoy winning a race ; for it appeared 
to me that, not only had my Department been found wanting, 
but I myself had done H.M. an iU turn as well. But other dis- 
asters were to follow. 

After the races, Burnham appeared with the same accursed 
horses, carriage and tight gloves, but — ^thank goodness ! — ^using 
old reins. We had not gone a mile on the way home when a 
heavy thunderstorm came on, with vivid Hghtning and torrents of 
rain, which lasted all the way to Windsor. We were all soaked 


to the skin, water from H.M.’s umbrella pouring down my neck, 
and from my umbrella down His Majesty’s neck. Thank good- 
ness, we arrived home at last! The King was still in the very 
best of humours, making jokes and chaffing those in the carriage. 

I am very glad of the opportunity to tell this little story, as it de- 
monstrates His Majesty’s coolness, and the invariable kindness 
and consideration which he showed to all those who had the 
honour to servehim. It is no wonder that everybody loved him. He 
was particularly insistent that nothing should be said or done 
which Burnham could interpret as a slight upon his skill. For- 
tunately, that was the end of the infernal carriage. It was never 
used again; and whenever I came across it in the Royal Mews, 
I cursed it with all my heart, and longed to have it burned. 

Except when on the Continent, I had the honour to receive 
an invitation every year to the Jockey Club Dinner, given 
by the Prince of Wales, afterwards King Edward VII, on the 
evening of the Derby Day, first at Marlborough House and, 
after he became King, at Buckingham Palace. The dinner was 
continued in later years by KLing George V. It was then, and is 
still, the custom for the King to propose the health of the winner 
of the Derby, when he is a member of the Jockey Club. On two 
occasions, both at Marlborough House, I had the honour to 
respond. When I did so for the first time, after Ayrshire had 
won in 1 888, I said I had found that it was exactly a hundred 
years since the then Prince of Wales, afterwards King George 
IV, won the Derby with Sir Thomas ; and I added how much 
we all hoped that H.R.H. would speedily follow in the footsteps 
of his illustrious predecessor. When I sat down I felt rather 
pleased with myself, thinking I had made a fortunate remark; 
but imagine my feelings when my neighbour, the late Lord 
Rosslyn, said, ‘My boy, you have put your foot in it!’ ‘In what 
way?’ I asked. ‘Well,’ said Rosslyn, ‘of course it was all right 
for you to wish that H.R.H. should win the Derby; but you 
added a hope that he would “follow in his predecessor’s foot- 
steps”. Don’t you know that George IV, when Prince of Wales, 
retired from racing under a cloud, because his jockey, Ghiffhey, 


was warned off the Turf for the manner in which he rode one of 
H.R.H.’s horses?’ I gave a gasp of horror, gulped down a glass 
of champagne to steady my nerves, and said, ‘How perfectly 
terrible! But, for goodness sake don’t give me away. Perhaps 
H.R.H. doesn’t know the family history.’ The following year, 
when I won again with Donovan, I took great care not to refer 
to what had happened in the past, merely expressing good wishes 
for H.R.H. ’s success in the future, and not mentioning the race 
in which it was to occur. These wishes, as is well known, were 
fulfilled, for H.R.H. won the Derby three times, with Persimmon 
and Diamond Jubilee, both bred by himself, and with Minoru, 
the property of Lord Wavertree. Lord Coventry, for many years 
the senior member of the Jockey Club, proposed H.R.H.’s health 
in happy terms on each of these occasions. 

I was vory much struck by the dignity displayed by the late 
Duke of Westminster, when responding to the toast. He won the 
great race four times, with Bend Or, Shotover, Ormonde and 
Flying Fox. I do not think these dinners were instituted when 
the first two won the race; but I well remember his replying 
after the victories of Ormonde and Flying Fox. 

We werQ all much amused when St. Blaise won, for Lord 
Alington at once jumped to his feet, quite ignoring Sir Frederick 
Johnstone, who was his partner. When he had finished his speech, 
Freddy stood up and said, ‘May I ask my noble friend where I 
come in? — ^for I own iust as much of the horse as he does; and, 
though he has omitted to mention my name, he never forgets to 
send me the bills for training it! I warn him that I am going 
to claim half the stakes and half the money we have won in bets; 
and if I don’t receive them on Monday next — ^by Jove! I’ll serve 
him with a writ!’ Of course the Prince of Wales and everybody 
else was convulsed with laughter. Freddy was a very quick, 
clever and witty man, and would have made a fibrst-class actor. 

At these dinners, I met many older members of the Jockey 
Club, now long dead and gone. Among others, I particularly 
remember Sir Richard Wallace, both for his handsome appear- 
ance, and for the charming courtesy of his manner to me, then 


a very young and inexperienced man. He was reputed to be the 
son of Lord Hertford, who formed the famous collection of works 
of art now known as the Wallace Collection, which he be- 
queathed to Sir Richard at his death. Sir Richard made con- 
siderable additions to the collection, which he left to his wife ; and 
by her it was left to Mr. (afterwards Sir) John Murray Scott, 
who presented it, and Hertford House, to the nation. Mr. Scott 
inherited another house from Lady Wallace, in the rue Laffitte 
at Paris, which was also full of artistic treasures ; and my wife, 
B. Carr and I visited him there. 

I had business deahngs with Charles Davis, the well-known 
dealer in Bond Street, whose firm sometimes acted for Sir 
Richard Wallace ; and he showed me the collection at Hertford 
House before it became national property. He told me that Sir 
Richard possessed two pictures by a French painter which he had 
bought when a young man ; and, hearing that a third picture was 
necessary to complete the set, he instructed Davis to search 
Europe and America for it, and to purchase it for him at any 
price. Davis made extensive enquiries, through his agents in 
various countries, but could find no trace of the picture. In due 
course he made his report to Sir Richard, who desired him to 
make even more extensive enquiries, which proved equally fruit- 
less. Finally Davis asked permission to examine the cases in the 
attics of Hertford House ; and he returned in triumph with the 
missing picture, which had been purchased many years before 
by Lord Hertford, and had been completely forgotten. 

Sir Richard was always very kind and hospitable to the 
English owners and their horses which ran in the Grand Prix at 
Longchamps, and he placed the stables at Bagatelle at their 
disposal. Perhaps that was the reason why he was elected an 
Honorary Member of the English Jockey Club, for I never heard 
that he either supported or took any interest in racing, though 
his father, when Lord Henry Seymour, was one of the origina- 
tors of racing in France, and one of the founders of the French 
Jockey Club. This reminds me that John Porter, the trainer at 
Kingsclere, told me a rather amusing little tale. He said that, 


when he trained a certain winner of the Grand Prix, the horse 
was stabled at Bagatelle. After the race, it was surrounded by 
an enthusiastic crowd, who had all backed it and were very 
excited by its victory. In the confusion, Porter became separated 
from the horse, and could not find it anywhere. He did not 
know a word of French, and thought the only thing to do was 
to find his way to the stable. He therefore said, ‘Bagatelle! 
Bagatelle !’ to everyone he met, hoping they would point out 
the way. Nobody seemed to understand, however, until at last 
a friendly individual said, ‘Ah, monsieur! Je comprendsl’ He 
then seized Porter by the arm, and took him to an adjacent cafo 
where there was a bagatelle board, pointing triumphantly to 
which, he said, ‘Voila, monsieur! Maintenant monsieur peut 
jouer la bagatelle !’ 

On page 12 1 of my Memoirs of Racing and Huntings I men- 
tioned the Httle house which I leased at Newmarket, before be- 
coming the tenant of Heath House. Perhaps I may be allowed 
to describe one of the many happy days my friends and I passed 
there, now nearly sixty years ago. 

We were called at seven o’clock in the morning. At eight, 
our hacks were waiting at the door, and, in the full enjoyment 
of the usual cold east wind — I hardly ever remember Newmarket 
at any time of the year without that doubtful blessing — we 
rode to the Heath to see the horses at exercise. Having done 
so, and perhaps tried some of them — ^satisfactorily or not, as 
the case might be, but more often not — ^we returned, either 
uplifted or downcast but in any case terribly hungry, to break- 
fast on prawns, poached eggs, bacon and muffins. 

After breakfast the newspapers arrived, and much discussion 
— ^most of it foolish — took place on the prospects of the ensuing 
day’s sport. For an hour or more before the races, a constant 
procession of acquaintances and friends passed our house, 
which was in the High Street, and we greeted them through the 
open windows. Our hacks were again brought to the door, and 
we then rode to the races. At luncheon, during the Spring 
Meetings, there were plovers’ eggs and more prawns. 


After attending the races, with more or less satisfactory results 
to some of our pockets, though not to mine, as I did not bet, we 
rode home to tea, at which there were usually still more 
shrimps and prawns, but alas, no plovers’ eggs. At six we went 
to the stables, for the evening inspection of the horses. When 
this was over, it was usually time for dinner, either at home 
or with our friends. When we dined out, we often finished 
the evening at the Jockey Club Rooms, where billiard matches 
took place. I specially remember some most amusing games 
between Captain Machell and Harry Hungerford. They were 
both fairly good players, but the chaff which passed between 
them was the chief attraction. 

At the back of our litde house was a stable yard. One mom- 
ing, when looking out of the bathroom window, I noticed a 
very good-looking brown colt being led round. I felt so much 
attracted by its appearance that I made enquiry about it. I 
heard that the yard had recently been taken by J. Huggins, an 
American trainer, and that the colt was Iroquois, by Leaming- 
ton, the property of Mr. Pierre Lorillard. Iroquois was a dark 
colt which had not yet run in England; and Archer subse- 
quently won the Derby and St. Leger on it in i88i. There 
were two good American horses running in England at the time 
— Iroquois, and Foxhall, the property of Mr. J. R. Keene, which 
won the Cesarewitch and the Cambridgeshire stakes in i88i 
and the Ascot Gold Cup in 1882 . 1 am sure Foxhall was a very 
good horse indeed, though he was a failure at the stud. He was 
trained by old William Day at Woodyeats. 

When we returned from the races, my friends often occupied 
themselves with their betting books. I remember that one after- 
noon someone asked Lord R., ‘Well, R., have you had a good 
day?’ He looked very much puzzled, and repHed, ‘I hope so. As 
far as I can make out, I’ve won about 7(^500. But I’m not sure, 
so will you look through the book and help me?’ Our firiend 
spent a minute or two examining the book, and then said, ‘I 
can’t make head or tail of this ; it’s hke a Chinese puzzle. But 
leave it with me for a little, and I’ll try to work it out.’ In the 


end it was found that poor old R. had lost nearly five hundred 

pounds instead of winning it ! 

I once heard Captain Machell say, ‘Live in the best society 
yourself; but always run your horses in the worst, unless they 
are very good ones.’ This is excellent advice, which I recom- 
mend to every young man. j rr • 

I am sorry that, in my Memories of Racing and Hunting, I 
omitted to mention the Bibury Club and Stockbridge Races: 
for, with the possible exception of Goodwood, it was the most 
enjoyable race-meeting I attended. It was held on the Downs at 
Stockbridge, then quite a remote little town, in Hampshire ; and 
the racecourse itself was very near Danebury, the celebrated 
stable where John Day trained the famous Crucifix for Lord 
George Bentinck, and many other well-known racehorses. I often 
saw his son, known as Honest John, sitting in the enclosure at the 
races. He was then a very old man, and nearly blind. His son- 
in-law, the famous jockey Tom Gannon, occupied the stables at 
Danebury, where his sons Momington, Kempton, and young 
Tom Gannon, were born and learned to ride. Arthur Coventry 
too was a very apt pupil. 

At this Meeting there were many races for gentlemen-riders, 
especially on Bibury Club day. Among others who rode were 
Arthur Coventry and Hugh Owen. I also remember seeing Lord 
Dudley ride there. He was not an experienced jockey or horse- 
man; but for all that he won his race, and I think it was very 
plucky of him to attempt it. 

I hired a little house at Stockbridge for the races, close to the 
bridge over the Test, a lovely chalk stream full of very large 
trout which could be caught only with a dry fly. The house on 
the other bank of the river belonged to Sir Frederick Johnstone, 
and there he often entertained the Prince of Wales, Lord Aling- 
ton, and other friends. 

I had considerable success with my horses at Stockbridge, 
winning most of the important races, including the Hurstbourne 
Stakes, which was then considered one of the principal races 
of the season, with Donovan. 




1. Lord Charles Beresford 

2. Earl of March 

3. Christopher Sykes 

4. Sir Frederick Johnstone, Bt. 

5. H.R.H. the Prince of Wales 

6. H. Chaplin 

7. Lord Alington 

8. Sir George Chetwynd, Bt. 

9. Duke of Richmond & Gordon 

10. Earl of Rosslyn 

11. Captain Machell 

12. the late Captain Coventry 

13. the late Prince Batthyany 

14. M. de Murrieta 
55. William Craven 
16. Lord Leconfield 

33 * Sir J, 


17. Marqtiisa de Santurce 

18. H.R.H. the Duke of Connaught 
ig. Major Egerton 
20 * Captain Seymour Finch 
21 - H.R.H. the Duke of Cambridge 

22. Lord Lurgan 

23. Col. the Hon. Oliver Montagu 

24. Portland 

25. Viscount Cole 

26. Count Charles Kinsky 

27. E. C. Ker-Scymer 

28. Lady Grace Fane 

29. Reuben Sassoon 

30. Countess of Westmorland 

31. J. B. Leigh 

32. Duke of Beaufort 
Willoughby, Bt. 

My friends and I attended the Bibury Club dinners, which 
took place at the hotel ; and very good fun they were, too — except 
on one occasion, when some young rascals threw what I can only 
describe as a Chinese stink-pot through the open window, caus- 
ing a hurried exit from the dining-room ! 

I have just read with much regret of the passing of one who in 
old days was among my nearest and dearest friends. I allude to 
Lord Lurgan — Billy Brownlow of the old days. He and I were 
at Eton together. He had a wonderful eye for all ball-games, 
and was a very fast bowler. An unfortunate accident happened 
to him when playing in Sixpenny, for a ball ran up his bat and 
broke both his front teeth. Nevertheless, this did not spoil his 
good looks, for, with his crisp, curly, black hair and cheery face, 
he remained to the end one of the most handsome men of my 
acquaintance. After leaving Eton, he joined the Grenadier 
Guards; but I am afraid that racing and shooting — ^he was 
never a very good horseman — occupied more of his time than 
did soldiering. 

At one of the Hampton Court sales he bought a yearling by 
Wisdom-Enigma. Though no good as a racer herself, she was 
own sister to the famous mare Florence, which had won the 
Cambridgeshire and, I believe, a large stake in money for her 
fortunate owner Jack Hammond. I think Billy also won a good 
stake on her, so perhaps that was the reason why he bought her 
sister. I offered to buy the filly from him, but he said, ‘No, old 
fellow. I’ll give her to you as a brood mare. Put her to St. 
Simon; and then, perhaps, you will let me have a share in the 
produce.’ I accepted her on these terms. She was mated to St. 
Simon, and her first produce was Amiable, who won the i ,000 
Guineas and the Oaks. Her next produce was Manners, winner 
of the Prince of Wales’s Stakes at Ascot, and other good races, 
who, but for a kink in his temper, would have been a really good 
horse. He was sold for a considerable sum to a German owner. 
Another good animal owned by Lurgan was Acme, by Dutch 
Skater, a name which I suggested for him. 

Lurgan was very often my companion at Langwell, where 


we made many good bags of grouse. These are one or two 
typical days: 


1887 Aug. 13 The Duke of Portland) ^ 
Lord Berkeley Paget 

„ „ „ LordLurgan 1 g 

R. W. Ghandos Pole 
1 896 Aug. 1 7 The Duke of Portland 

Lord Lurgan 91 

18 The Duke of Portland 

Lord Lurgan 90 





I have in my room a beautiful photograph-screen, of tor- 
toiseshell inlaid with silver, which he gave to me as a wedding 
present. It arrived rather late, and was hastily unpacked by my 
wife’s aunt, Miss Graham. To her horror — still more to Lurgan’s 
and mine — it was filled with photographs of many beautiful demi- 
mondainesl Of course I disclaimed even bowing acquaintance 
with any of them; and the shopkeeper afterwards explained 
that he inserted the photographs because he thought they 
looked pretty. So they did; but it was hardly a suitable present 
for a happy and fortunate bridegroom ! 

Lurgan married the charming Lady Emily Cadogan (‘Tiny’), 
and was the father of William Brownlow (‘Brownie’), who has 
succeeded him, and who is one of the best golfers, amateur or 
professional, in the country. 

I am afraid dear old Billy was not altogether happy in some 
of his connections — I will not call them friends— on the Turf. I 
am perfectly certain he would have been better without them. 
That is sufficient to say about it. I regret that latterly, for a good 
many years, I saw nothing of him, as his interests lay chiefly in 
London, and mine in the country. None the less, I look back 
with the greatest pleasure to the many happy days we spent to- 
gether at Welbeck, Langwell, Newmarket and elsewhere. 

PoUy Garew, to whom I have so often referred, was my guest 
at Melton when he received a telegram from Lord Roberts, 
asking him to join him in Burma. He had arrived at Melton 
with two himters, and during the season he bought six others. 
He also purchased a thoroughbred mare, Beauhamais by 


Seesaw-Josephine, at a sale of horses belonging to the Duke of 
Hamilton. When I asked him why, he said, ‘My dear fellow, 

I think every gentleman ought to own a thoroughbred mare.’ 

After Polly’s departure for Burma I mated Beauharnais with 
St, Simon, by whom she had a colt foal, subsequently named 
Soult. She was mated with St. Simon again, and had another 
foal. I then mated her with St. Simon for the third time, and 
sold her as in foal to that great horse, with a filly foal at foot. I 
think she sold for about 5(^2,500 ; and her yearling was bought by 
Colonel Oliver Montagu and Lord Randolph Churchill for 
;£i,8oo — not a bad return for an outlay of perhaps ;{i25o! So, 
what with the sale of his hunters and his brood-mare and her 
offspring, Polly found a nice little nest-egg awaiting him at his 
banker’s when he returned. 

In 1889 , 1 drove Sir George Wombwell in my phaeton to see 
Ayrshire and Meianion run in the Royal Stakes (of ten thou- 
sand sovereigns) at Kempton Park. While going down the hill 
from Putney Common, we came across two ladies who had met 
with a carriage accident: so we helped the coachman to put the 
carriage to rights, and then bade them a rather regretful fare- 
well. On arrival at the races, we- found Sir Frederick John- 
stone’s Friar’s Balsam a hot favourite for the Royal Stakes. The 
result, however, was that Ayrshire, ridden by J. Watts, won 
by three-quarters of a length. Lord Calthorpe’s Seabreeze run- 
ning second, and Meianion third. So it was an eventful and very 
pleasant day. When I returned home, the rescue of the dis- 
tressed ladies was duly reported to my future wife. Miss Dallas- 

On the following day, I received a most charming note from 
the ladies, inviting Sir George and myself to tea with them — 
but alas, alas, the note turned out to have been written by Miss 
Dallas-Yorke, from a fictitious address at Richmond. I said no- 
thing to her at the time ; but later in the day she asked very 
innocently, ‘Have you by any chance heard from your charming 
ladies?’ and at that I burst out laughing, and told her I had dis- 
covered the shameful plot. She confessed to having sent a 


similar letter to Sir George, who cared little for racing and 
seemed certainly to have thought more of the ladies than of 
Ayrshire’s victory; but unfortunately she posted it from London, 
not Richmond, and I believe he was sharp enough to recognize 
the hoax. 

I once went with George Lambton to Derby Races, where he 
rode twice. We had to hurry away; and, though he changed his 
racing jacket, he had no time to change his breeches and 
boots. When we got into the train at Derby for Nottingham, the 
guard kindly reserved a carriage for us and said, ‘The train does 
not stop until it gets to Nottingham’: so George took off his thin 
breeches and boots, saying, ‘I am cold ! I think I’ll have a good 
warm up in my fur travelling-bag before I put on my trousers.’ 
This he proceeded to do. Imagine our horror, however, when 
the train stopped half-way and an old lady got into the carriage. 
There was George, quite respectable so long as he kept his legs, 
which were then of course in a state of nature, wrapped in the 
travelling-bag. But how, without shocking the lady, was he to 
complete his toilet before we arrived at Nottingham? It was a 
serious question. Fortunately, however, the train stopped again, 
and much to our relief the old lady got out; so George was 
able to complete his toilet. 

A very young peer, whom I will call X, was my guest for 
Lincoln Races, where he betted heavily and lost his money. 
In the evening he wished to play cards, but nobody was pre- 
pared to take him on. Among my guests was H. H., a very old 
friend and a first-rate exponent of legerdemain — ^so much so, in- 
deed, that he would never play cards for money. Hoping to teach 
our young friend a lesson, with some difficulty we persuaded 
H. H. to play cards with him on the following evening, and to 
cheat him deliberately. H. H. agreed to do so, but stipulated that 
he should first put it in writing that he was to play ^cartd with X 
and to cheat him, but that no money was eventually to pass. 
He also made it a condition that none of us were to leave the 
room until the game was over. 

When the time came, I said to X, ‘Would you like a game of 


6carte with H. H.?’ He replied, ‘Of course I should — I’ll take any- 
body on.’ So down they sat. At first, when the stake was a low 
one, X was allowed to win; but when it was several hundred 
pounds, H. H. promptly marked the King and won the trick.This 
went on until X had lost about ;^5,ooo, and we were all very 
sleepy and tired of the affair. At last I remarked, ‘Really this 
must come to an end’ : so H. H. said, ‘All right’, and proposed that 
they should have one more deal for double or quits. Of course he 
marked the King again, and apparently won 0,000. X natur- 
ally looked rather taken aback, but also considerably relieved, 
when H. H. threw the cards on the table and said, ‘My dear boy, 
you don’t owe me a shilling! I’ve been cheating all the time.’ I 
am afraid the lesson did our young friend no good, for not long 
afterwards he was in the Bankruptcy Court. 

Since the publication of my book Memories of Racing and 
Hunting I have been looking through old Racing Calendars, and 
am much struck by the general improvement which has taken 
place, both as to the manner in which the sport is conducted and 
in the value of the stakes. Towards the end of the ’70’s, the Park 
Courses were opened, Sandown leading the way, followed by 
Kempton, Hurst Park and others. These, no doubt, much im- 
proved the status of the sport in many ways. In the days to 
which I allude, save for the so called Classic Races there were 
very few stakes to the value of more than a thousand sovereigns ; 
and those there were, such as the Ham and Gatwick Stakes at 
Goodwood, the Black Duck Stakes at York, and some other 
races of that kind, were all subscribed by the owners themselves, 
with little or no added money given. It was then, I imagine^ 
almost impossible — except with the most extraordinary good 
luck — to pay one’s expenses from the stakes won. Therefore the 
only means of doing so was by betting; though that was much 
more likely to increase one’s expenses than to diminish them! 
I doubt whether the horses, though there are now more than 
double the number in training, have improved to the same 
extent. The best period for horses, in my opinion, was from 
1880 to about 1900, though I believe Windsor Lad and Bahram, 


which were 4 y.o. and 3 y.o. respectively in 1936, were possibly 
as good as any of the horses mentioned in my other book, with 
the exception of Isonomy, Ormonde, St. Simon and Donovan. 

Berkeley Paget told me that, when he and his brother Dandy^ 
were boys, they were riding in Beaudesert Park in the autumn 
of 1855, with their father Lord Anglesey. They came across a 
string of racehorses, some of which were about to be tried by 
Saunders, the trainer at Hednesford. Lord Anglesey sent Dandy 
to ask whether there was any objection to their seeing the trial. 
Saunders replied that he would be delighted if they would do 
so, and said, pointing, to two individuals, ‘These gentlemen are 
Mr. Palmer and Mr. Cook, the joint owners of Pole Star.* We 
are trying it in order to find out what chance it has of winning 
the Shrewsbury Gup, which is to be run next week.’ 

Pole Star won the trial very easily, and Palmer backed it 
heavily to win the race, in his own name but with Cook’s money 
as well as his own. No doubt he had already planned to poison 
Cook. In any case he did so, with doses of antimony and strych- 
nine. Pole Star won the race on Tuesday, November 13th; and it 
was therefore necessary that Cook should be out of the way on or 
before the following Monday, when his share of the winnings 
would be received. On Sunday morning he was still alive, though 
very iU; so Palmer gave him an additional dose, and he died 
that night. Palmer therefore drew all the winnings for himself, 
as was of course his intention from the beginning. 

Palmer was already suspected of having poisoned his wife and 
a number of other people whose lives he had insured; and an 
autopsy was held on Cook’s body. On this occasion, however, 
Palmer made a fatal mistake; for he offered the individual who 
took the organs to Stafford, for examination, a large bribe to 
drop the jar in which they were contained. Of course he did 
not do so; and, though no trace of poison was discovered in 
the organs, the attempt was regarded as strong circumstantial 
evidence of Palmer’s guilt. 

^Lord Alexander Paget, father of the present Lord Anglesey. 

®By Faugh-a-ballagh out of Tillah. 


I am not sure that this narrative is accurate in all its details ; 
but I repeat it as I often heard Berkeley tell it. 

As is well known, Palmer was found guilty of murder and 
hanged. The story goes that the people of Rugeley petitioned 
the Government to rename the town, which was associated in 
the public mind with the murder; and they proposed that it 
should be named after the Prime Minister, Lord Palmerston. 
‘What’s the use of that?’ Lord Palmerston said ; ^ Palmer^ s Town 
is worse than ever !’ 

Berkeley also told me that when he was sitting, late at night, 
by the bedside of his brother-in-law Lord Hastings, who lay 
very ill at Donington Hall, he distinctly heard the horses and 
wheels of a carriage drive up to the house. He said to Hastings, 
‘Who is coming, Harry? If you are expecting guests at this late 
hour, I had better go down and receive them.’ Hastings replied 
quite calmly, ‘Don’t bother, Berkeley. It has only come for me.’ 
He died two or three hours later. There is a legend that when 
the owner of Donington is about to die, a carriage and horses 
are heard to drive up to the front door. 

Whatever his gambling proclivities may have been, Hastings 
possessed plenty of courage. Berkeley told me that, when Hastings 
and he were returning in a sailing-yacht from Norway, a hurri- 
cane arose, and they were in great danger of shipwreck. But the 
harder it blew, and the greater, their peril, the more Harry 
Hastings seemed to enjoy it. All he said was ‘This is better fun 
than backing losers !’ 

Mrs. Henry de Lotbiniere^ has very kindly sent me the follow- 
ing account of an experience she had when she was the guest 
of Lady Maude^ at Hampton Court Palace. 

‘Some years ago I was staying with my friend Lady Maude at 
Hainpton Court. On leaving the drawing-room, before dinner, 
I had to pass through a small ante-room. The door closed be- 
hind me, and I was in the dark. I was trying to find my way out 
by the opposite door, when I saw to my right the figure of a 

^ Eldest daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Seymour Grenfell of Elibank, Taplow. 

® Widow of Lt.-Gen. Sir Stanley Maude, K.C.B., G.M.G., D.S.O. 


woman. I realised afterwards, however, that it was only her 
head and shoulders which I saw. Her hair was parted in the 
middle, and she wore a soft white shawl. I was about to ask her 
where the switch of the electric light was, when the appearance 
vanished as quickly as it had come. 

‘As ghosts are not always welcome, I said nothing about it to 
my hostess ; but next morning, at breakfast, someone asked me 
whether I knew that the Palace was haunted by Mrs. Penn, the 
nurse of King Edward VI. I had never heard of her till that 
moment, and I asked which rooms she visited. The reply was 
that she is sometimes seen in a passage at some distance from 
where I saw the apparition; but I was told that a concealed 
door in the ante-room led to the rooms she occupied, which are 
now unfurnished. It was exactly in front of the door that the 
figure appeared to me. Shortly afterwards, two other people saw 
her, at different times, in the same corner of the room. The 
ghost did not frighten me, and I tried to see her again the next 
time I was at Hampton Court, by shutting myself in the ante- 
room in the dark; but nothing appeared or happened. 

‘Soon after this experience, I was shown an illustrated history 
of Hampton Court, containing a small picture of Mrs. Penn; 
but I could not recognise any resemblance between her and the 
apparition, at any rate as to dress. The illustration was too 
small to show the features clearly. 

‘The legend is that Mrs. Penn was in charge of Edward VI 
when he was iU, and lived in this part of the Palace. While she 
was there, her own child died ; and she has occasionally appeared 
in the Palace. She is buried at Hampton Church; and the 
apparition is believed to have appeared since her grave was dis- 
turbed, during a serious fire at the Church. M. de L.’ 

I have several times passed the night in rooms with the repu- 
tation of being haunted, at Newstead, Rufford and Littlecote; 
but I cannot claim ever to have seen, or in any way come into 
contact with, a ghost. For all that, I firmly believe in their 
existence, and fully sympathise with the Frenchwoman who, 
when asked whether she beheved in ghosts, replied, ‘No, I do 


(A. J. Mimnings, R.A.) 


not believe in them; but, mon Dieu! how I am frightened of 
them ! ’ 

When the Princess of Wales, afterwards Queen Alexandra, 
visited Newstead, as the guest of the Duke and Duchess of 
St. Albans at Bestwood, she was shown the haunted room, in 
which there was a cupboard let into the wadi, with its door 
slightly ajar. Being always full of fun, H.R.H. saud, ‘I think the 
ghost must be in here,’ and opened the cupboard door. Notic- 
ing a long curtain inside, she poked it with her parasol — and 
then drew back with a very startled ^Oh!” For a faint scream 
came from behind the curtain and out rushed two housemaids, 
who had evidently hidden there to obtain a good view of the 
Royal visitor. 

I often visited Newstead, then the property of Mr. and 
Mrs. Webb, both before and after I came to live in Notting- 
hamshire. Mrs. Webb was a sister of General Goodlake, Cold- 
stream Guards, a most distinguished officer, who gained the 
Victoria Gross in the Crimea. They gave me a book, now in 
the Library at Welbeck, containing a piece of the curtain of 
the bed used by Lord Byron. 

After the death of Sir Algernon Peyton, Master of the Bicester 
Hounds, Lord Valentia bought one of his best hunters, suc- 
ceeded him in the Mastership, and eventually married his 
widow. A year or two later, the Bicester had a first-rate day’s 
sport; and when Valentia was riding home in the evening, a 
mutual friend said, ‘What a splendid day’s sport we have had! 
My only regret is that dear old Algie Peyton could not be with 
us — ^how he would have loved it!’ After a moment’s hesitation 
Valentia replied, ‘Yes, it has been a wonderful day. But perhaps, 
after all, it is best that Algie wasn’t here; for, although no 
doubt we have had a splendid day’s sport, it might have been 
a little spoiled for him when he realised that I am not only the 
Master of his Hounds and riding his best hunter, but am his 
wife’s husband as well. Yes — on the whole, I think it is much 
better that dear old Algie wasn’t here.’ 

My friend Lord Enniskillen brought Billy M'Graine, the well- 



known Dublin horse-dealer, to Welbeck. He was a most quaint 
character. When Enniskillen said to him, ‘Mind you send the 
Duke good horses,’ he replied, ‘Sure, My Lord, I’ll send him 
nothing but patent safety animals. D’ye think I’m such a fool as 
to send him bad horses to begin with, when I want to keep him 
alive and sell him many more?’ He proved as good as his word 
and sent me two or three excellent animals, bringing them over 
to Welbeck himself, with his son Kit to show them off. I asked 
him whether one of them could jump timber. ‘Jump timber?’ 
he said. ‘He could jump a palisade. Now then, Kit, off you go 
over that gate!’ 

After seeing the underground passages built by my pre- 
decessor, he said, ‘It’s a pity his late Grace didn’t live at Holy- 
head.’ I asked him why he thought so. ‘Sure, then we’d have 
had a tunnel under St. George’s Channel and travelled by 
train, instead of puking all the way in a bloody boat.’ 

When Lord Cork resigned the Mastership of the Buck 
Hounds, a sale was held of his and the Hunt horses. Old Lord 
Henry Bentinck was asked whether he attended the sale and, if 
so, whether he made any purchases. He replied, ‘Yes, I attended 
the sale; but I did not buy any hunters, as they were nearly all 
Cork screws.’ 

Adolphus Frederick, Duke of Cambridge — Queen Victoria’s 
uncle and the father of George, Duke of Cambridge— -enjoyed 
attending the services at Westminster Abbey, where he occu- 
pied a seat next that of the Dean. During a period of drought, 
the Dean asked the congregation to pray for rain, whereupon 
H.R.H. remarked, ‘By all means, Mr. Dean; I have no objec- 
tion in the world to your praying jfor rain. But it will do no good 
so long as the wind remains in the east.’ 

On another occasion he sat in his usual place when the 
98th Psalm was read or sung. After the yth verse, ‘With 
trumpets also, and shawms: O shew yourselves joyful before 
the Lord the King,’ it was noticed that H.R.H. became restive; 
and at last he said in a loud voice, ‘Mr. Dean!’ ‘Hush!’ mur- 
mured the Dean. ‘Mr. Dean!’ repeated H.R.H., firmly and 


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loudly: ‘I know very well what trumpets are, but what the devil 
are shawms?’ 

Lord Fife, the father of the Duke of Fife, was a very 
curious character. When Queen Victoria visited Mar Lodge 
one day, he said, ‘I am sure Your Majesty will be pleased to 
hear that I have given up drinking brandy and soda-water.’ 
H.M., though no doubt a little taken aback, replied, ‘I am in- 
deed glad, Lord Fife. It will be so much better for your health.’ 
Fife, however, continued, ‘It is not a matter of my health. Your 
Majesty, but I have found a much better drink — that is, 
whisky and Apollinaris water; and I strongly recommend 
Your Majesty to try it.’ 

When invited to shoot at Sandringham, he was accompanied 
by two Highlanders, each of whom carried what looked like a 
telescope slung over his shoulder. The Prince of Wales saw these, 
and remarked, ‘Telescopes are no doubt very useful at Mar, 
when you are deer-stalking, but you will hardly want them 
here.’ ‘There Your Royal Highness is mistaken,’ replied Fife; 
‘they are just as useful here as at Mar, because, you see, one is 
full of brandy and the other is full of whisky!’ 

One very cold morning, the Prince of Wales arrived at Mar 
Lodge. Someone, in fun, picked Lord Fife’s pocket of his usual 
whisky flask, and then suggested to H.R.H. that he should ask 
him for a nip, as he felt cold. The Prince at once entered into 
the joke, and did so. ‘Certainly, Sir,’ replied Fife, putting his 
hand into his pocket — but the flask had disappeared. ‘Ah, Your 
Royal Highness, it’s gone!’ cried Fife. ‘But no matter’ — dipping 
into another pocket — ^here's another, ’ 

He attended a dinner of the Royal Caledonian Hunt in Lon- 
don, where there was a strict rule against any except the Loyal 
Toast being proposed. Fife, however, insisted upon proposing a 
toast of his own. He rose to his feet and began, ‘My Lords and 
gentlemen’ — then looked carefully round the assembled guests 
and continued, ‘In my humble opeenion there are only two men 
at this table who are worth a domn. One’s myself, the Earl of 
Fife ; and the other’s my old friend, the Earl of Stair !’ 


The ist Viscount Colville of Gulross told me the following 

‘When I was a very young man, the then Duke of Sutherland, 
a great friend of my family, invited me to stay at Dunrobin in 
his absence, and to roam about the vast estates — in fact the 
whole county of Sutherland — as I liked. There was plenty of 
fishing and shooting, and I had a thoroughly enjoyable time. 

‘Being on my way from the West Coast to Lairg one day, 
I decided to spend the night at a wayside inn. I slept in a room 
which reminded me of the bulkhead of a ship, with a partition 
between it and the next room. Soon after I lay down, I heard a 
voice from the further side of the partition, “I’m saying the 
Duke is a grand mon.” The only reply was a grunt. Shortly 
afterwards, the voice repeated, “I’m saying again, the Duke is a 
grand mon.” This also met with a grunt. After two or three 
minutes, a second voice said, “Aye, the Duke is a fine mon 
a’ richt — ^but he’s no’ got the gr-rand belly o’ Tulloch.” 

He also told me he was on the mail coach which ran from 
Lairg to Inverness, when it stopped at the gate of Balnagowan 
Castle. Three individuals came out and cKmbed on to the back 
seat of the coach. They turned out to be a lunatic and his two 
keepers, who, as a treat, were taking him to Norwich to see the 
execution of a murderer. 

Lord Colville paid my wife and me a visit at the hotel at 
Invergarry. He said he had been a guest at Invergarry Castle in 
1851, when it was the property of Lord Ward, afterwards 
created Earl of Dudley, and that he saw a picture of a beautiful 
woman — I think she was the village laundress — painted by 
Landseer on the wall of one of the passages- We went to the 
Castle on the following day, and the painting was still there, on 
the wall of a passage leading to the nurseries. 

He told us that at the time of his Visit to the Castle Lady 
Ward, who had been Miss de Burgh, was lying dangerously ill 
at Cannes. Lord Ward walked out every day to meet the pcwft- 
man, hoping for news of his wife, but no letter arrived. One day 

^The late Duncan Davidson of Tulloch Castle, near Dingwall. 


he returned and said, ‘Charlie, I have had a letter from Cannes, 
andl shall be leaving for France tomorrow morning.’ Of course 
there was no Highland Railway in those days, and he had to 
ride over the hills. When he arrived at Cannes, his wife was 

When staying at Goodwood for the races, some time before 
1895, I well remember being taken by Jacko Durham to visit 
his grandmother, the Dowager Duchess of Abercom, at her 
home, Coates House, on the Petworth Estate. The Duchess was 
then over eighty years old, and died in 1905 at a very advanced 

It was a beautiful evening; and the butler took us into the 
garden, where we found the Duchess sitting by a large pond, 
fishing with a rod and line. As we approached she held up a 
warning hand, and then flicked a perch out on to the grass. 
Having handed the rod to a footman, who carefully unhooked 
the fish and put it back in the water, she beckoned to us and 
said, ‘Jacko, my dear child, how glad I am to see you ! And who 
is this other boy?’ — ^both of us, by the way, being well over 
thirty years old at the time. She then continued, ‘I waved you 
away just now because the float was bobbing about, and I 
feared you might frighten the fish. Sometimes they are very shy 

The Duchess was the most charming, genial old lady I ever 
saw, and unusually handsome. I believe she spent much of her 
time fishing in the way I have described, with the footman to 
bait her hook and return the fish to their watery home. There 
is a well-known photograph, taken at Montagu House, which 
shows her surrounded by over two hundred direct descendants 
— children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and perhaps 
great-great-grandchildren too. 

I was on Carlisle platform, after my first visit to Ayrshire in 
1880, when the station master pointed to a charming old pair. 
The old man wore a grey suit, a Scotch plaid and tam-o’- 
shanter bonnet, and carried a long crooked walking-stick. The 
station master said to me with bated breath, ‘Their Graces the 


Duke and Duchess of Buccleuch.^’ Imagine my delight when, 
hat in hand, he spoke to them, and I heard the Duke reply, ‘Is it 
indeed?* He then came towards me with outstretched hand, 

and said, ‘Mr. has told me that you are the young Duke of 

Portland. I am so glad to have an opportunity of meeting you, 
and of presenting you to my wife; for she is your kinswoman, 
though perhaps you are not aware of the fact.’ I had to admit 
that this was true; and the Duke explained: ‘She is a Thynne, 
and her grandmother, Lady Bath, was formerly Lady Elizabeth 
Bentinck. So, you see, you and she are kinsfolk; and you know 
we people in Scotland set great store by blood relations.’ I never 
met a more charming and agreeable couple. When my train 
came, the Duke said, ‘And now good-bye, my young friend. I 
hope you will always think of us as your friends too; and we 
shall both be extremely hurt if you do not pay us a visit, next 
time you come over the Border.’ Unfortunately he died shortly 
afterwards, so I was unable to have that great pleasure. 

The present Lord George Scott is one of the Duke’s many 
grandchildren. He told me that when he and the other boys 
were returning from Drumlanrig to school, the Duke sent for 
them to his study. He then unlocked a cupboard, opened an 
inner drawer, and took out a large wooden bowl full to the brim 
with golden sovereigns. Galling the boys one by one, he stirred 
the bowl round with his finger, and any sovereigns that dropped 
over the edge were his tip to the boy. Of course, the faster he 
stirred, the more sovereigns fell out of the bowl ; and I believe 
his favourite grandsons fared particularly well. George, who was 
a special favourite, used to exclaim, ‘Faster, grandpapa I Faster ! ’ 
to which the Duke replied, ‘Don’t be greedy, George my boy. 
Go away! That is quite enough for you.’ George told me there 
were probably four or five hundred poundb m the bowl. I asked 
him why in the world the Duke kept so many sovereigns in his 
writing-table, and he said he did not know for certain, but he 

^Walter Francis, 5th Duke of Buccleuch and 7th Duke of Qjueensbcrry, born 
1806; succeeded his ikther 1819; married 1829, Lady Charlotte Thynne; died 1884. 
The Duchess died in 1 895 . She was my second cousin once removed. 


believed it was the custom in those days for him to settle estate 
and other accounts himself. 

The Duke owned thousands upon thousands of acres of land 
in Scotland, besides very large estates in England, including 
Beaulieu in Hampshire, Boughton in Northants, a big estate in 
Warwickshire and Montagu House in London. In the South 
of Scotland, besides Drumlanrig, which I think is the most 
glorious private residence in the British Isles, he owned Lang- 
holm Lodge, with wonderful grouse shooting, Bowhill, Eildon 
and Dalkeith, all with large houses. He had many hun- 
dreds of tenants; and it was said that he was personally 
acquainted with nearly every one of them, and remembered 
their names. He knew them by what they called ‘head mark’ ; 
and they all loved him. He was amusingly fond of a canny 
Scottish bargain, and one of his oldest and most intimate friends 
wrote in fun: 

Walter Francis B. and Q^. 

If you don’t do him, he’ll do you ! 

I believe this rhyme much amused the Duke, and that he 
promptly capped it with another, which I have unfortunately 

His brother. Lord John Scott (1809-1860), married Miss 
Spottiswoode, who wrote Annie Laurie and other songs. Mat 
Dawson, who trained his racehorses, told me many stories 
about him. He was extremely fond of a ‘scrap’; and some- 
times, on his way home from hunting, he offered any likely 
young fellow he met a sovereign to stand up to him. If the man 
showed skin and pluck, he was given two or three sovereigns; 
but if he caved in too soon, he received only the pound he had 
been promised. Lord John’s second horseman held the coats and 
kept the ring by the roadside. I asked Mat whether he carried 
boxing-gloves about with him. ‘Lord, no !’ said Mat: ‘he used his 
bare knuckles.’ Lord John named one of his racehorses Pug 
Qrrock, after a pugilist whom he admired. 

When I first visited the Helmsdale for salmon-fishing, there 

31 1 

were several curious characters in the neighbourhood. One was a 
worthy old gentleman who had a shooting lodge and a rod on 
the river. He was very stout; and for some reason or other, his 
internal economy was in constant motion, giving the impres- 
sion of a ferret moving about in a sack. For this reason he re- 
ceived the rather coarse but, under the circumstances, not in- 
appropriate nickname of Old Rumblyguts. One of his many idio- 
syncrasies was to spend a great part of the day watching the rod 
on the next beat through a telescope, to see whether he fished 
in an unauthorised manner — that is, with a *bajoc* ( a 
worm) — only fly-fishing being allowed, though many fish were 
taken secretly with the worm when the river was low. When 
the Duchess of Sutherland came as his gu«t, he supplied her 
with a delicious cold luncheon; and, quite forgetting that she 
was a teetotaller, he opened a bottle of champagne in her 
honour, which she made him drink himself. 

Another odd personality was Mr. S.-K. A friend of mine 
went down to the river one day to fish, when to his astonish- 
ment he found a heap of clothes on the bank and Mr. S.-K. 
swimming up and down his best salmon-pool. On another 
occasion S.-K. appeared on the railway-line, waving his arms, 
and held up the mail train from Wick to Inverness. The 
excited engine-driver and guard jumped down and asked, 
‘What’s the matter? Is there something wrong with the line?’ 
‘Nothing whatever, so far as I know, replicxi S.-K. ; but Fm 
very tired, and I hope you’ll give me a lift home to Kildonan 

When I first fished the River Garry and Loch Oich, in 
1895, the fishermen often spoke of ‘a horrible great beastic’ 
which, they said, appeared from time to time in Loch Ness. Of 
course we ridiculed these reports, and chaffed them about the 
potency of the Fort Augustus whisky; but the proprietor of 
the Invergarry Hotel, who had been brought up at Inver- 
moriston, assured me that his father and he had actually seen 
the monster. I am glad to have an opportunity of making this 
statement, as it shows that the monster was known to exist 


more than forty years ago. I, for one, fully believe in its exist- 
ence ; for, in the first place, I do not see why so great a number 
of individuals should pretend to have seen it; and, secondly, if 
the tale were untrue, I cannot believe that the inventions of so 
many independent persons would agree so closely as to the 
appearance of the beast. This reminds me of the famous Prime 
Minister who, when his Government was in difficulties, was 
asked, ‘What shall we say?’ He replied, ‘I don’t think it matters 
in the least what we say — but, for heaven’s sake, let us all say the 
same thing!’ That may have been possible for a few Cabinet 
Ministers; but hardly, I think, for the many eye-witnesses of 
the Loch Ness monster. My daughter and I missed seeing it by 
only five minutes. We were motoring along the Loch to Inver- 
ness when we passed a car whose occupants shouted, ‘Go on! 
You’ll just be in time to see the monster.’ But, alas, when we 
reached Glen Urquhart the spectators told us it had disappeared 
five minutes before. 

A very happy improvement that has come about during my 
lifetime is the great decrease in drunkenness among all classes of 
the community, particularly in Scotland. Not many years ago, 
it was common on Saturdays to see a vast number of people 
who had, to use an Irish expression, ‘whisky taken’ ; nor was 
it unusual to meet farm-carts wandering along the road, with 
their drivers lying drunk in the bottom. I shall never forget 
passing through Perth Station, as I once did, during the time of 
a Hiring Fair at the end of October; for the whole place was 
crowded with people, men and women, nearly every one of 
whom had taken ‘a wee drop too much’^ Happily such sights 
are never met with to-day. 

The evening train from London arrived at Perth in time for 
breakfast on the following morning. I was travelling by it 
when, for some reason or other, it was held up for a considerable 
time outside Perth Station. After a few minutes, I heard Ghandy 
Pole’s familiar voice shout to the engine-driver from the wim 
dow of a neighbouring carriage, ‘Why dinna’ ye whustle, mon? 
It’s no’ the Sawbath!’ 


When travelling to Langwell one year, we were given a 
special saloon-carriage at the end of the train, from which it was 
detached outside Inverness Station. My wife and I were lying 
full-length on the seats, peacefully asleep, when a tremendous 
jolt suddenly shot us both on to the floor. In a minute or two 
we heard an apologetic voice say, ‘I’m a’fu’ sorry. I’m afraid 
I gave you the wrong kind of a shunt! ’ 

Mr. J. H. Turner has very kindly written the following ac- 
count of his drive from Paisley to Langwell in the first motor car 
we owned, in September 1901. 

‘It may be of interest, considering the great changes which 
have taken place in the use of motor cars, to give a short account 
of my drive to Langwell in the Arrol-Johnston car, which I be- 
lieve was one of the first cars to cross the Ord of Caithness.^ 

‘The car, of 10 h.p., built by the Arrol-Johnston Motor 
Company at Paisley, was then considered one of the best cars 
in the country. As will be seen from the photograph, it was of 
the dogcart type, with tiller steering, large diameter wooden 
wheels fitted with solid tyres, seated for four, and open to “a’ 
the airts the wind could blaw”. 

‘The car left Paisley at 12 o’clock on Thursday, September 
19th, and I joined it at Perth at 4 o’clock. The weather was 
very wet when we left Perth for Pitlochry, where we passed the 
night. The car was driven by Andrew Hunter, afterwards 
head chauffeur at Welbeck, accompanied by another competent 
driver named WardeU. 

‘Owing to the weather conditions wfe were unable to leave 
Pitlochry till midday on the 20th, and arrived at Inverness 
about 9.30 that evening by the Daviot Road from Aviemore, 
after having tea at Kingussie. 

‘The roads were very rough, but even so the car, with the 
large rubber-tyred wheels, extra weight and springing, was 
more comfortable than a wagonette, and we had practically no 
trouble with it when climbing hills. On the steepest hilk our 
speed reached about 8 miles an hour. 

^Thc inarch between Sutherland and naitbrK-aM, 


‘On the morning of the 21st we left Inverness at 10 o’clock 
for Langwell, lunching at Bonar Bridge and having tea at 
Helmsdale, and arrived at Langwell at 6.30 p.m. The weather 
conditions on the 21st were good. We avoided the road over the 
hill by Aultnamain Inn to Bonar Bridge, which was then very 
rough, going round by Tain. When we arrived at Helmsdale, 
the late George Ross, the hotel keeper, begged me not to take 
the car over the Ord. He said that if I did so I should “live to 
regret it”. 

‘Hunter and his assistant took the opportunity, at Helmsdale, 
to see that the car was thoroughly tuned up, with the result that 
we made a non-stop run from Helmsdale to Langwell, the 
twelve miles being traversed in about an hour. 

‘The car, which was housed at Berriedale, proved a source of 
some excitement on Sunday, when most of the residents at 
LangweU had “joy rides” in the afternoon. 

‘The total distance we ran each day was as follows: 

Thursday 19th September, Paisley to Pitlochry 95I miles 
Friday aoth September, Pitlochry to Inverness 88^ miles 

Saturday 2 1 St September, Inverness to Langwell 112 miles 

296 miles 

‘Needless to say the car attracted much attention on the road. 
An old lady at Pitlochry remarked, “Nane o’ your stinking 
paraffin lamps for me.” It was also of special interest to the 
numerous horses on the road. We frequently had to stop to 
allow carts to pass, as the horses were quite terrified by the 
sight, sound and smell of the motor. 

‘It may be of interest to state that from the time the car left 
Paisley, till it arrived at Langwell, not another motor vehicle of 
any description was seen. Of course at that time there were very 
few cars in Scotland — perhaps not more than 100, though in 
Edinburgh from 12 to 15 taxis plied the streets in the autumn 
of 1901. J. H. T.’ 

I did not realise at the time that the arrival of this very 
primitive motor car would entirely change our outlook on life, 


that it would bring places and hills in Sutherland and Ross-shire, 
upon which I had often gazed through my telescope, within 
easy access; or that it would be possible, as it is now, to travel 
faster by road than by train from Langwell to Perth and Edin- 
burgh. It became easy to visit Wick, John o’ Groats, Dunnet 
Head, Thurso, Reay, Tongue, Durness, Lairg, Golspie, Brora 
and Helmsdale, and to return home, during a long day in 
summer, though the roads then, compared with those of the 
present day, were little more than tracks through the hills. Not 
many years ago, the hotel keepers and other owners of motor 
vehicles advertised that they would only undertake to carry 
passengers at the passengers’ own risk. Today, there is an ex- 
cellent road all the way from Inverness to John o’ Groats, and 
also a regular service of aeroplanes between Inverness, Wick 
and the Orkney Islands. 

Shortly after the purchase of the four-seater Arrol-Johnston, 
I also bought a six-seater car of the same make. They were both 
open cars, like four-wheeled dog-carts. Those who sat in front 
experienced the full force of the weather; and the jolting one 
received over those roads is indescribable — it was more like 
the motion required to chum milk into cheese than anything 
else ! We next owned a Lanchester, with a hood. In this, the 
driver’s seat stood over the engine, and was apt to get very hot 

When motors were first introduced. Queen Victoria saw a 
pic ture of the Prince of Wales on an open motor, wearing a high 
hat which had been shaken or blown on to his nose. Her Majesty 
said to me, T hope you will never allow any of those horrible 
machines to be used in my stables. I am told that they smell 
exceedingly nasty, and are very shaky and disagreeable convey- 
ances altogether.’ So long as H.M. lived, there was never any 
motor in the Royal use. 

Anne, Duchess of Atholl, a great firiend of Queen Victoria, 
who honoured her with her presence at Dunkeld, sometimes 
used what was then known as a boat-carriage, with horses 
ridden by postilions. A boat-carriage was, as the name 


suggests, a boat on four wheels; and it could be used on the 
Tay or any other large river. I remember that one day the 
Duchess arrived at Kinnaird in this carriage, to call on my 

When Titchfield and I opened the new water supply for 
Troon, in Ayrshire, we were met at the end of Loch Braddan by 
Lord Ailsa, the Lord-Lieutenant, and Dick Oswald of Auchen- 
cruive. Convener of the Ayrshire County Council. The plan was 
that we should row down the loch, to the place where the cere- 
mony was to be performed. Two serviceable boats were pro- 
vided ; but Lord Ailsa had arrived in his boat-carriage, and he 
seemed anxious that we should proceed in it down the loch. 

I asked him whether the boat was watertight, and he replied, 
T hope so; but I don’t believe it has been in the water for 
the last twenty-five years, so we shall have to try it and see.’ 
When put into the water, it leaked at every seam — so much so 
that in four or five minutes it was half full of water. Dick 
Oswald, Titchfield and I said, ‘This will never do’; but Lord 
Ailsa, who had great knowledge of ship-building, assured us 
that everything was ail right — ^we must beach the boat, bail it 
out, and refloat it in a few minutes’ time. Then it would not 
leak at all. 

These precautions were taken, and it was then time to pro- 
ceed down the loch. Dick Oswald and I, however, insisted upon 
using one of the ordinary boats, while Titchfield accompanied 
liord Ailsa. When we were half-way down, we saw Ailsa and 
Titchfield with their legs in the air; and they had only just time 
to land before the boat sank. Of course they were both very wet. 
However, plenty of whisky and other warming drinks were at 
hand when I released the tap and turned on the water supply 
to Troon, twenty-five miles away. 

We then motored to Troon, where a large banquet was held 
in a tent. Towards the end of this an excited individual ap- 
peared, who waved his hat and shouted, ‘The water has come! 
It’s pouring into the reservoir,’ It was welcomed with many 
cheers and the best that Johnnie Walker could provide. Inci- 


dentally, he is a native of, and a great benefactor to, Troon. 
Long may he live ! 

Many years ago, Paul Bourget and some other Frenchmen 
leased a shooting in Caithness. We invited M, and Mme 
Bourget to pay us a visit at Langwell. I asked Bourget what he 
thought of Caithness, and he replied, T like it very much in- 
deed, M. le Due; but never again will I come here.’ Naturally I 
asked why not, and he replied, ‘A terrible gentleman invited 
me to luncheon last Sunday. He made me a compliment, and 
then told me he also was a great author — a poet. Avec la 
politesse jrangaise I said, “Perhaps Monsieur will allow me to see 
some of his work?” Then the horrible man said, “I will read 
you extracts.” He read them for two hours, without stop- 
ping; and at the end he said, “Now, M. Bourget, I hope you 
will agree that my beautiful lines resemble those of your great 
poet, Victor Hugo.” Ah, mon Dim! Never will I meet such a 
man again!’ The next morning, Mme Bourget came down to 
breakfast arrayed pour la chasse, with a short skirt, shooting 
boots, a stalker’s cap, and a miniature game-bag on her back. 

The late Archbishop and Mrs. Davidson were often our wel- 
come guests at both Welbeck and Langwell. At dinner one 
evening, Mrs. Davidson mistook a decanter of kiimmel for 
water, and poured herself out haF a tumblerful. She sipped it, 
gave a little cry, and then most gracefully, under cover of her 
handkerchief, passed it into her finger-glass. When I apologised 
to her, she said, T don’t in the least know what it was, but it left 
a not unpleasant taste in my mouth.’ I suggested that if she took 
another sip, that might taste even better. But she could not be 
persuaded to do so. 

When Lord Zetland was Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland, I 
visited him and Lady Zetland at the Viceregal Lodga for 

Punchestown Races. I had not attended these races before 
and ' it much interested and amused me to see the clever 
way in which the Irish steeplechase horses jumped the huge 
banks. Between the races the so-called ‘Big Double’ was 
covered with black-coated young priests who, from a distance, 



Langwell Gardens, 1913 


looked just like a colony of rooks. When the horses jumped, the 
Irish jockeys shouted at them for all they were worth. Harry 
Beasley was one of the most popular jockeys, and he seemed to 
shout louder than all the rest put together. An enthusiastic 
clerical admirer took me by the arm and said, ‘Whisper, sor! 
Did ye hear Harry speak to his harse?’ I might well have 
done so half a mile away ! 

The Irish horses were extraordinarily clever, and kicked back 
in the air when they jumped the huge fence, well known as the 
‘Big Double’ — a wide bank with a ditch on either side. Captain 
Arthur (Doggie) Smith told me H6raut d’Armes, on which he 
won the Gonyngham Cup, pulled so hard that he could not 
steady him, and he ‘flew’ the whole obstacle without touching 
it— the only occasion, I beheve, when the winner did so. 

On the way to the races I asked dear old Lord Headfbrt, ‘Why 
do all the parks have these great walls round them? Are they 
full of deer?’ ‘Deer, my boy?’ he replied. ‘Certainly not! We 
poor devils of Irish landlords have little enough to keep in. It’s 
the blackguards we want to keep out !’ 

I once met Lord Headfbrt riding in the Park, accompzuiied 
by a child with pretty golden hair down her back, tied with a 
ribbon. Having greeted him, I said, ‘Please introduce me to 
your granddaughter’; and he indignantly replied, ‘I will not, 
sir. She’s not me granddaughter — ^she’s me own daughter.’ 

At one of the crowded State balls, Lady Zetland said to a 
very stout individual, ‘I’m so sorry you seem to have nothing to 
sit on.’ ‘Thank you. Your Excellency,’ was his reply, ‘I’ve 
plenty to sit upon; but you see I’ve nowhere to put it.’ During 
another ball at which Lady Zetland was present, an Irish wit 
said to a stranger, ‘Two of the greatest ladies in the room to- 
night are Her Ex and Her Double-Ex,’ referring to the Vice- 
reine and Lady Iveagh, whose husband was the head of the 
famous Guinness brewery. 

A story which went the rounds of Dubhn was that, after a 
dinner-party, the parlourmaid stood at the end of the table 
and said in a loud voice, ‘Is it your pleasure, sor, that I should 


sthrip for dessert?’ — ^meaning, of course, should she remove the 

I heard that an Englishman, travelling from Dublin to 
Dundalk, became very nervous because the train went so fast 
and swayed from side to side. He spoke about this to an old 
woman in the same carriage, and she said, ‘Faith, we’re all right. 
It’s me boy Pat driving the engine; and when he’s the whisky 
taken, sure he’s the divil to make her go !’ 

Among my other Irish friends was the 4th Lord Langford, 
generally known to his friends — and they were extremely nu- 
merous — as Paddy Langford. He held the post of State Steward 
to Lord Londonderry and Lord Zetland during their terms of 
ojfEce as Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland, He owned Summerhill, a 
beautiful old house in Go. Meath, which was unfortunately 
burnt during the troubles- The Empress of Austria and her 
suite occupied it for several seasons. H.I.M. spent a great deal of 
money on it, making it a really comfortable house; and she 
invited Paddy to be her guest during the whole of the hunt- 
ing season. A first-class rider, and known as one of the best men 
to hounds of his time in either Ireland or England, he was 
sometimes my guest at Melton. Captain ‘Bay’ Middleton 
piloted the Empress when she came to Ireland, and I believe 
she preferred hunting there to anywhere else as she did not run 
the risk of scratching her face in jumping the bare banks, as she 
did in the thick English fences. Many excellent Austrian and 
Hungarian riders came with her, among others Prince Louis 
Liechtenstein, Master of the Horee to the Emperor and 
manager of the Lipizza stud. Count Kinsky, Count Larisch 
and Count Kaunitz were there too. 

I asked Paddy whether it was true that the Empress was a 
beautiful horsewoman, and he replied in two words — ‘Abso- 
lutely incomparable.’ He told me he considered her the most 
beautifiil and charming woman in every way that he had ever 
met; and this, Imay say, was the opinion of all those who had 
the honour of being acquainted with her. 

When the political disturbances prevented hunting in Ireland, 




The Marchioness of Ormonde, the Marchioness of Lansdownc, Georgina, 
Countess of Dudley, and the Marchioness of Londonderry, wearing 
jaeger costumes sent to them by H J.M. the German Emperor. 

several sportsmen, of whom Paddy was one, came to hunt in 
Leicestershire. A kind lady took upon herself to tell Paddy who 
everyone was, though most of them were his personal friends. 
When I came along, she pointed to me and said, ‘That big man 
is the Duke of Portland.’ ‘How kind you are !’ said Paddy. ‘Will 
you introduce me? — ^But perhaps it is hardly worth while, after 
alt, as I am staying with him !’ 

He told me he bathed in a river, on a hot summer day, 
with old Lord X, who had a club foot. Paddy was swumming 
about at the lower end of a pool, when he heard loud shouts 
from above — ‘Paddy, me boy! Paddy \ For goodness’ sake catch 
me corn-plasters, or I shan’t be able to walk home.’ 

When, as a youth, I paid a visit to Colonel Harcourt, the 
elder brother of the famous Sir WilHam Vemon-Harcourt, at 
Nuneham Park, near Oxford, he rebuked some individuals for 
landing in his private grounds. One of them retorted by saying, 
‘Well, governor, if you think the whole blooming Thames be- 
longs to you, why don’t you have it bottled ofi?’ 

Sir Henry Hawkins, whom I often met at Newmarket and 
other racing resorts, was full of anecdotes about his early career 
at the Bar. He once acted as Counsel for a burglar and, 
though the man was guilty, managed to obtain a verdict in 
his fovour. When Hawkins left the Court, he found the man 
hanging about, evidently waiting to speak to him. He stopped, 
and the man said, ‘I’m very much obliged to you, sir, for 
what you did for me to-day, and I should like to do some- 
thing for you. Would a sack of taters be any good to you, or a 
ton of coals?’ ‘No, no, my good feUow,’ replied Hawkins, ‘I 
only did my duty, and I’m very glad to have helped you.’ The 
man looked round, came a little closer, and whispered, ‘If 
you’ve seen anything lying about that you fancy perhaps I might 
be able to get it for you.* 

The gigantic Mr. S. P. called on a lady, and inadvertently 
sat on her pet lap-dog, which was asleep in an arm chair. He 
heard a faint gurgle and, rising hastily, found to his horror that 
the dog was dead; so he crammed it hurriedly into his coat-tail 



pocket. When the lady came in she greeted him and then 
called, ‘Fido! Fido! Fido!’ but no Fido appeared, and nothing 
could be seen or heard of it. The lady was naturally very much 
distressed, and said she was afraid it must be lost: so Mr. 
S. P. offered to go at once and make enquiries. He walked away 
from the house and, when at a safe distance, dropped poor Fido 
down an area. This story might well be entitled. The Advantages 
of Wearing a Frock-coat. 

One very hot afternoon at the end of July or the beginning of 
August, some time before the War, I took the chair at one of 
General Booth’s Salvation Army meetings at Mansfield, where, 
notwithstanding the lovely day and an important local cricket 
match, more than i ,500 people had assembled ; and they listened 
with rapt attention as long as the meeting lasted. General 
Booth much reminded me of pictures I have seen of Father 
Abraham, as he had most piercing eyes, a prominent ncee and 
a flowing, white beard. He delivered a wonderful and inspiring 
address: so much so that members of the audience continually 
cried out, ‘Hallelujah’. His speech, besides being very eloquent, 
did not lack humour. He said that a man had applied to him 
for assistance, and that he amwered, ‘Tell me a little about 
yourself. What is your occupation?’ ‘I am a picker,’ was the 
reply. ‘But what is a picker?* asked Booth. ‘Well, during the 
summer I pick strawberries, raspberries and other fruit for the 
markets; in the autumn I go down to Kent to pick hops; and in 
the winter I return to London and pick pockets!’ I asked Booth 
what was the outcome of this, and he said he told the man he 
had no objection to his picking fruit or hops, but that if he 
wanted his assistance he must certainly give up picking pockets. 
I met the General several times, for he was a native of Notting- 
ham and seemed to enjoy his visits there. 

While motoring to his house at Hackwood, near Basingstoke, 
George Gurzon met with an accident and was rendered uncon- 
scious. When he came .to, he found himself in a small room, and 
a doctor sponging his face. In a minute or two, the doctor put 
down the sponge and went hastily away. When he returned he 


said, ‘I am very sorry to have run away in such a hurry; but I 
was called here before your accident, to attend the wife of the 
owner of the house. The baby has now arrived safely, so I can 
give my whole attention to you.’ 

When Gurzon felt better he asked where he was ; and they 
told him it was the house of the local barber, a certain Mr. 
Corns. A little later, the barber came to see him and said, T am 
so glad Your Lordship is better. I feel sure you will be glad to 
know that while you were here my wife presented me with a 
son; and I should consider it a great honour if Your Lordship 
would consent to be his godfather.’ Gurzon said he would do so 
with great pleasure; and in due course the baby received the 
names George Nathaniel Gurzon Corns. Gurzon loved this 
story, and I wish I could tell it half as well as he did. 

Shortly before the War, my wife and I paid a visit to Frank 
and Alice Mildmay at Shoreham. We were returning by motor 
to London very late at night when, by the light of our headlamps, 
we saw a policeman and two other men, who raised their hands 
to stop the car. When we had done so, one of the men opened the 
door and flashed his torch in our faces. He then gave a gasp 
and in a very apologetic voice said, ‘I beg Your Grace’s pardon !’ 
‘Who the devil are you?’ I asked. ‘I am your chiropodist’s assis- 
tant,’ he replied, ‘but I am a special constable too ; and we have 
orders to stop every car that passes along this road tonight, as 
there are supposed to be some Irish agitators about. Of course 
I had no idea that Your Grace would be coming this way. Gan I 
do anything for you?’ ‘Yes,’ I said, ‘please call and see me at 3 
Grosvenor Square, tomorrow morning. I want my corns cut !’ 

The Rev. J. O. Stephens was Rector of Blankney when Harry 
Chaplin lived there. He was a very good fellow indeed, and a 
great friend of the Squire. He took much interest in the baths at 
Woodhall Spa, worHng hard to bring them up to date, and 
to make the place known to sufferers from rheumatism and 
kindred complaints. He invited me to take the chair at an 
Annual Meeting of the Hospital; and, before the proceedings 
opened, I was shown the new electric baths, where the patients 


were given treatment. During my inspection, the door of a 
bathroom was opened; and there, very much to my surprise, I 
saw an individual in his birthday suit, lying in a bath and sur- 
rounded by what appeared to me to be a fiery furnace. I said 
very hurriedly, beg your pardon’ and shut the door. 

After the meeting, I was shown the very attractive gardens 
attached to the baths. A smart individual, dressed in a black 
jfrock-coat, patent-leather shoes and shining high hat, was 
sitting under a tree. As I passed, he jumped up and said, ‘How 
do you do. Your Grace. I’m so glad to see you. You came into 
my bathroom just now; and I was very disappointed that you 
didn’t stay and talk to me because, though you may not recog- 
nise me, I often have the pleasure of seeing you at Welbeck.* 
‘Do you?’ I asked. ‘I am afraid I don’t remember you.* ‘No, 
that is very Hkely,’ he said, ‘for when I am at Welbeck I gener- 
ally have a black face. You see, I’m your sweep!’ I asked him, 
‘Why do you come here?’ ‘I come every year’, he replied, ‘to 
throw off the rheumatism I get on Your Grace’s roof.’ We had a 
good laugh together, and I told him next time he was at Welbeck 
with a black face, to be sure and remind me of our meeting. 




I t is rather alarming to be asked to write a chapter about 
Welbeck parties for this book. There are so many pens more 
competent than mine to do so. Moreover I feel it is im- 
possible to put into limited lines such an immense quantity of 
happy remembrances of nearly forty years at Welbeck. It is also 
quite impossible to crowd into a small space the love one feels 
for the dearest friends that anyone ever had. 

There is something about the atmosphere of Welbeck which 
is unique and indescribable. The happiness of the family, their 
love for one another and their kindness to everybody radiates 
aU round. The moment one arrives at Welbeck and the beauti- 
ful golden gates shut one in, one suddenly feels safe and happy. 
One is enveloped in an atmosphere of love and kindness. 

My earliest souvenir of Winnie and Portland goes back to the 
90’s, when my parents were at the Austro-Hungarian Embassy 
in London. ITbe Duke used to take us out driving on his coach, 
and occasionally we were allowed to go to bed later than usual, 
in order to see Winnie when she was dressed to go to a party, 
looking radiandy beautiful. 

Having, to our great sadness, left London, we did not see 
them for many years; but when I was eighteen and just 
married, my brother Alphy and I were invited to a party at 
Welbeck. We accepted delightedly and left Brussels together. 
Having been used to travel abroad, where you register your 
luggage and do not bother your head about it any more, we did 

lElder daughter of Prince and Princess Clary and Aldringen. 


not know that on leaving the boat we ought to have seen it put 
into the railway van. And, as the train steamed out of Harwich 
Station, to our horror, we saw our poor little luggage sitting, 
queued up on a trolley, on the platform. This was devastating! 
The delight we felt on leaving Brussels had by now gradually 
developed into a distinct feeling of uneasinm and shyness. 
When the climax occurred and we found we were going to an 
enormous party, and that all our luggage had stayed behind, I 
was nearer tears than anything else! Not only that, but we 
managed to get into a wrong train, so that the Welbeck car 
which had been sent to meet us at Worksop Station was no 
longer there. Miserably, we hired a cab in Worksop, which 
naturally drove us to the back entrance of the Abbey. By the 
time we were identified and taken to the dining-room, where 
an enormous party was having luncheon, we fervently wished 
we had never started on this terrible journey! I remember 
Alphy saying to me, ‘What devil possessed us to come to 

I was made to sit next to the Duke. After a few preliminary 
questions as to how my family was, and what a pity they had 
been unable to come, and what sort of journey we had had, the 
conversation flagged. As somebody mentioned a motor car, I 
shyly plunged into conversation and asked the Duke if he led 
(meaning drove) his own car, whereupon he shrieked with 
laughter at me — aU those who have heard him laugh will 
agree that this can be taken literally — ^and answered, ‘Yes, I 
lead it with a little blue string.’ Can anyone conceive such 
heartless brutality? 

This was my first hour at Welbeck. But things soon became 

From that day onward I hardly missed one Show party until 
the War, and Alphy and I were often in London with Winnie, 
the Duke and Vera during the season. I do not suppose anybody 
could have enjoyed it more than we did. Hardly a year passed 
without a visit to Langwell too, in the autumn, and very 
often in the spring we travelled or motored together abroad. 





Sometimes my parents joined the Portlands and once Aunt 
Osy and Uncle Alois Loewenstein, Uncle Franzy Kdnsky, and 
the Leiningens came too, so that we were finally a caravan 
of motor cars. We were all gay, and enjoyed ourselves im- 

A terrible thing I once did at Welbeck was this: There was a 
large party in the winter of 1912 for the King and Queen. The 
other guests, if I remember well, included Lady Salisbury, the 
Duke and Duchess of Devonshire, my mother, the Roxburghes, 
Uncle Albert Mensdorff, Laszl6, Several, Lord Lovat, Mr. 
Webber and Michael Wemyss. During the party I disgraced 
myself by developing virulent appendicitis, with blood poisoning 
and every kind of complication. Dear old Sister Grace was 
marvellous. Within a few hours, by the time Sir Alfred Fripp 
arrived, she had produced an up-to-date operating theatre in 
the Jessamine Rooms, where I hovered between life and death 
for several weeks. My father and mother were precipitately sent 
for from Brussels, Alphy from Poland, Foffa from Bohemia and 
my husband from Ireland, where he was himting. A charming 
kind df guest to invite to stay for Simday ! 

Can one ever forget the fun the Welbeck parties were — tennis, 
golf and riding, with Gassano’s Band playing delicious valses at 
night. It is difficult to single out one particular party because 
they were all marvellous in their way. Although you constantly 
saw new and delightful people, you knew that you would always 
meet the same dear old friends as well. 

I should like to have mentioned the several visits which the 
Queen of the Belgians paid to my dear friends, both in London 
and at Welbeck, and the happy visit of our King and Queen to 
Langwell in 1930. But the tragic events which have occurred 
since then make my memories of these visits so sacred that I feel 
I cannot do so. 

In 1913, the Archduke Franz Ferdinand and the Duchess of 
Hohenbeig came to Welbeck for the first time. They were en- 
chanted with everybody and everything, and felt the warmest 
sympathy and greatest admiration for what they had seen in this 


country. They both loved Winnie and the Duke and were com- 
pletely under the charm of England. It was with immense joy 
that they looked forward to their next visit. 

There are probably few figures in contemporary history of 
whom so much is written that is untrue. Had he lived, the 
Archduke would undoubtedly have ranked as one of the 
greatest and b^t Monarchs and most far-seeing and clear- 
sighted statesmen of modem times. His one aim in life was peace^ 
his policy eminently constructive, and his greatest joy, embellish- 
ing everything with which he came into contact. His unalterable 
determination was to strive for a higher standard of living for 
the people and to bring about internal peace by dealing with 
utmost fairness to all. 

In 1889, after the death of the Crown Prince Rudolph, the 
Archduke Franz Ferdinand became Heir to the Throne, The 
basis of his political orientation was: 

a. In internal politics: The consolidation by peaceful methods 

and strengthening of the State, and opposing the already 
discernible tendencies of disintegration- These were the 
result of the so-called ‘National Idea’ imported from out- 
side the country, demanding rights (mostly impossible to 
concede) for every one of the eleven nationalities within the 

b. In external politics: The idea of a ‘balance of power in 

Europe’, which had been created at the initiative and with 
the help of England at the Congress of Vienna. 

Resulting from this, the Archduke considered it to be the task 
of Austria to establish a link with Berlin and St. Petersburg^ possibly 
even in the form of an alliance similar to the ‘Holy Alliance’ 
which had been created in 1 8 1 2 . 

The idea of a Triple Entente, Austria — Germany — Italy, he 
rejected, as he considered this constellation unnatural. History 
has proved how right the Archduke was. As, humanly speaking, 
his accession to the Throne was then unlikely to be in the near 
future, the Archduke had time to prepare himself for his stu- 


pendous task; and he did this with all the will jx)wer and rare 
sense of duty and responsibility which characterised him. 

From December 1892 to September 1893 the Archduke 
travelled round the world, during which time he saw and 
formed an opinion on the immensity of Great Britain’s position 
as a world-power, and her marvellous political administration. 
The Archduke studied the British principle of freedom of the 
individual coupled with strict allegiance to Crown and Empire. 
He saw clearly that it was by no means impossible to 
unite people of different nationalities, while leaving them their 
national and personal rights. 

After two months spent in India, the Archduke continued to 
Singapore, Australia, Hongkong, Japan and home via North 
America. On his return he paid his first visit to England, the 
object of this visit being to thank Her Majesty the Queen. 

In 1898 the Archduke went to St. Petersburg. At that time 
the foundation for a sincere and warm friendship was laid, but 
unfortunately it could not materialise owing to the ill-feeling 
which had existed between Russia and Hungary ever since 

From 1900 to 1910 an incessant struggle continued within the 
country, during which the Archduke put up a tremendous fight 
in order to achieve a rejuvenation of the State; to preserve 
everything that made for unity, most particularly in the Army 
and the Fleet; to grant complete justice to all the nations form- 
ing the State. 

In 1902 the Heir to the Throne was made Commander-in- 
Ghief of the Fleet, and he very soon succeeded in completely 
eliminating any feeling of divergence that might have existed, 
and in uniting the nationals of the eleven different nations into 
one profoundly patriotic imity. Gradually these ideas prevailed 
in Austria, and the Archduke found enthusiastic followers to 
help him remodel the old State in such a way that every nation 
within its boundary should be given a ‘place in the sun’. 

The Archduke’s consideration and childlike respect for his 
Imperial uncle, prevented him from putting any of his plans 


into execution during the lifetime of the old Emperor; but 
everything was minutely prepared. 

The very moment of his accession to the Throne was to be the 
Birthday of a new Austria. 

But the opposing elements within were on the alert. Both the 
Hungarians and the Deutsch-Nationalen, in the future Ruler’s 
plan, saw the prospect of a weakening of their own preponderant 
position towards other nationalities within the Monarchy. 

In order to prevent the opposition within the country from try- 
ing to win adherents for themselves abroad, it became necessary 
for the Archduke to allow his political programme to be known 
outside his own coTintry. 

For reasons already mentioned, the road to Russia was 
barred and consequently the next thing to try was to win 

Much nonsense has been written about the so-called Tact of 
Konopischt’ and yet actually there, in June 1914, the Archduke 
once again regretfully noted the difference of opinion between 
the German Emperor and himself on various subjects. 

For though, in consequence of their frequent intercourse, a 
sincere friendship had sprung up between the Archduke and 
the Emperor William II, and however true a friend of Austria 
the German Emperor had become, he could not understand the 
Archduke Franz Ferdinand’s political programme, concerning 
the Reform of Austria. 

Meanwhile the enemy forces from without worked harder and 
harder, trying to stir up strife among their co-nadonals within. 
They could afford to waste no time. They knew too well that, 
the moment the Archduke came to the Throne, the entire 
nationalistic question in Austria would be solved in a friendly 
and eminently just manner. They knew that this would put an 
end, once and for all, to the necessity for the Tig Brother’ out- 
side to rush to the help of ‘his poor oppressed little brother’ 
within the Monarchy — and, incidentally, equally put an end to 
the ‘Big Brother’s’ future dreams. 

No one knew all this better than the Archduke, and it was his 


Above: Prince Max, Prince Ernst and Princess Sophie Hohenberg, with 

Count van der Straten. 

Below: The Archduke Franz Ferdinand and the Duchess of Hohenberg 

with their children. 


The sketch for this painting, by W. Kossak, was made on the 
Russian front during. the Great War, when AJphy was 
awarded the Grosse Goldene Tapferkeits-medaUle for con- 
spicuous bravery. 

greatest wish to initiate England into his ideas and political 
plans. England, he felt, could not conceivably reject a plan 
according to which the second greatest State in Europe was to 
be reconstructed in such a way that every inhabitant would be 
given his freedom and right; that consequently a true Democraxy 
would be created, where each one, having received freedom and 
justice, would loyally serve the community. 

The Archduke felt that England would understand, and 
these were the motives which made him doubly welcome the 
idea of a visit to this country, to which, in any case, he felt so 
much drawn. 

In the autumn of 1913 the next visit took place. There is so 
much one could write about this extraordinarily interesting 
time at Windsor and Welbeck. 

I have letters, both from the Archduke and my dear Aunt, 
written from Austria after we had separated in Brussels. These 
letters literally breathe warmth and enthusiasm about England, 
and such immense sympathy for the friends they had met, and 
so many joyful plans for future meetings. 

One cannot help feeling that this visit to England could have 
been the beginning of something very great. What importance 
the Archduke attached to it, and how happy it made him, was 
apparent to all. 

So much so that when, in June 1914, he once more saw a 
certain lack of understanding in the Emperor William II, with 
regard to his un-imperiaUstic plans, the Archduke experienced, 
and expressed, a profound feeling of comfort and joy at the 
thought that he would, in the following month of September, 
receive Their Majesties King George and Queen Mary at 
Bluehnbach, in the County of Salzburg. 

It stands out in my memory very vividly, what a deep feeling 
of sympathy the Archduke felt for the King and Queen and how 
profound his admiration was for Great Britain’s good, noble and 
beloved Monarch. How full of promise for the good of Europe 
this new j&iendship seemed to him! 

The last order, curiously enough, which the Archduke gave 


to the Fleet, was an order to the First Battle Squadron to enter 
Malta for the visit of the British Fleet in June 1914. 

A few days later, the same Squadron conducted the dead 
Admiral and his wife aboard the flagship through the Adriatic 
towards home, and the Austrian Fleet, which was the Archduke’s 
creation, gave him the escort. 

Tragedy and disaster took their course. Tragic and senseless as 
the beginning had been, when the Heir to the Throne was mur- 
dered by a son of precisely that nation to which it had been his 
life’s work and aim to give freedom and full rights — so senseless, 
I repeat, was the end. The Austrian Monarchy was divided up 
into bits. Struggle began, all against all. 

It was divided up by people (I do not hesitate to say this) 
who were ignorant of the situation and did not know what 
they were doing. It was done with the lightness with which one 
might carve a cake. It was criminal and tragic in its senseless- 
ness. How desperately sad that England could never witness the 
accession to the Throne of this great Habsburg Prince! Would 
it not have been an immense advantage if, today, there were an 
entire, strong and peaceful Great Power in the Danubian 
Basin? This noble Prince was also a true European, and what we 
see now, when it is too late, he saw at the time. In justice to 
his memory one must admit how much would have been diflerent 
had he lived. 

When the War broke out and the Germans had reached 
Malines, our country place, Donck, which was near the fortifi- 
cations of Antwerp, was thought to be a dangerous place to stay 
in with small children. The Duke and Winnie, who in their 
angelic kindness had, since the outbreak of hostilities, incessantly 
telegraphed to me to leave Belgium and come to Welbeck, now 
urged me once more. 

So, on the last boat that IdTt Antwerp, overcrowded with 
refugees, I came over with niy children, little dreaming that my 
visit was going to be for a duration of four years. Once again 
the Golden Gates opened, and shut us safely in this haven of rest 


and calm that was Welbeck, after the din of battle in Belgium, 
the distant roar of guns, and the incessant flow of refugees on all 
the roads leading to Holland. All one’s life one had felt great joy 
when one arrived at Welbeck; but what it meant to me at that 
time is impossible to describe. Meanwhile, at the approach of 
the enemy forces, my husband crossed the frontier into Holland, 
where he served at the Belgian Legation until the end of 
the War. 

During those terrible years of wax, so full of horror and an- 
guish, when one’s heart was tom between conflicting loyalties, 
no father and mother could have been more beloved and angelic 
than Winnie and the Duke were to me. And Vera, who is the 
salt of the earth, made up of the finest qualities and no faults, 
was an unfailing friend in good and bad days. We all pooled our 
thoughts and hopes and fears for our dear ones on all fronts, and 
suffered together and for each other. And so month after month 
wore on ; all hope one had that this ghastly War would be short, 

At the very outset all our friends had gone, everyone of our 
generation ; and as time went on, more and more went out, older 
men and little boys who had only now reached the age, and one 
dear name after the other appeared on those dreadful casualty 
lists, which one looked down with a trembling heart. One after 
another, the flower of youth, of the best and most brilliant of 
England’s sons, had crossed the Border Line, never to return — 
and yet another was added to that legion of mothers who had 
given all they had, and whose courage in their grief was heroic. 

The War went on, and one lived in anguish from day to day. 
One went through such terrible anxiety on all sides: one’s heart 
ached for poor, peaceful little Belgium, whose fate was such a 
cruel tragedy; and one’s trembling thoughts never left that little 
corner of Flanders, where our beloved King and Queen were in 
constant danger. Undaunted and fearless, both, and uncrushed 
by reverses, the King, like a great Rock with an Angel by his 
side, in unequalled grandeur and simplicity, stood for the Inde- 
pendence of Belgium, the living symbol of Justice and Right. 


And I was in constant terror for Alphy, who was in the 
trenches in the Balkans, miserable for my beloved home, 
Austria, which was fighting against such huge odds. Ail one’s 
cousins and uncles were out at the front, fighting for different 
sides, on different fronts ; and one never knew till weeks after- 
wards who was alive and who had been killed. One knew, too, 
that there was a dreadful shortage of food at home. 

It was the warm sympathy and love that surrounded one, the 
Portlands’ angelic goodness that helped one to live through 
those months of constant terror. 

During the years of the War I never once met anybody (I am 
not speaking of my many very dear friends, who were always 
kindness itself) who, although knowing that I was bom Austrian, 
ever said one unkind or tactless word to me. That is a thing I 
can never forget. 

There were happier, calmer days sometimes: when dear 
Sonnie^ was home on leave and we were, for a little while at 
least, delivered of one horrible anxiety. And when he brought 
dear little Ivy into the family! That lovely wedding in the 
Chapel at Welbeck! 

Later came another very beautiful wedding ceremony at 
Welbeck, when Vera and Michael* married. No one can be 
more devoted to Michael than I am, or gladder that two such 
dear people married one another; but at the time I can only 
remember spending one of the most miserable days of my life, 
battling with tears at the thought of what we were losing. 

Morven, who with a warm heart and tremendous common- 
sense, has at the same time a more delightful and rollicking sense 
of humour than almost anyone I know! Such good company, 
and what a joy when he sits down to the piano and plays to 
one enchantingly for hours! How helpful and dear he too was 
to me, in spite of his extreme youth, during the War, I cannot 

There are people better qualified than I am to write about 
England’s effort during the Great War. It was stupendous. 

^Titchfield. ‘Michael Wemyss, Royal Horse Guards, 


What I saw during those years impressed me more deeply than I 
can say. It filled me with unbounded admiration for the wonder- 
ful country which I love so much, and which to me is like a 
second, very beloved home. 

Everybody in Belgium will always remember with deep 
gratitude what England did for Belgian refugees at this time. I 
can only refer here to the measures taken in the County of 
Nottingham. There were numerous refugees in Nottingham, 
Mansfield, Worksop and the other surrounding towns; and 
everyone showed wonderful kindness in helping us to look after 
them and, so far as possible, make them happy and comfortable. 

The Belgian Fund Committee, of which I was appointed 
Chairman, collected several thousand pounds, and sent thou- 
sands of parcels out to our soldiers at the front every year. 

The Hon. Secretary of our Committee, Mrs. F. E. Dowson, 
literally worked from morning to night to help our unfortunate 
countrymen, ably assisted by the Vice-Chairman, Mrs. Charles 
Birkin, Mrs. Dobson, Miss Lilian Birkin, Mrs. Mowden, Mrs. 
Lambert, Miss HiU, and many other kind friends in Notting- 
hamshire. The arduous secretarial duties were undertaken by 
the Town Clerk of Nottingham, Mr. (now Sir) W. J. Board, and 
Mr. G. H. Selwood, who were afterwards greatly assisted by the 
late Mr. F. B. Harris, then Clerk of the Peace. The Mayors of 
the various boroughs and Captain Tomasson, who was then 
Chief Constable, took great interest in our work, and were al- 
ways ready to help in every way. I admired the courtesy and 
patience with which they received me, when time after time I 
asked them for favours — ^for permission to hold flag days, 
organise bazaars, etc. Managers put their theatres and concert 
haUs at our disposal when we organised matinees and concerts, 
and private citizens lent houses to put up entire families. 

When I think of those days my heart warms at the thought of 
aU the love and goodwill shown to our Belgian soldiers; and I 
wish our friends in the City and County of Nottingham to know 
that, although many years have gone by, none of their kindness 
has been forgotten. 


Among much that was sad and tragic, I have one or two 
amusing memories of the refugees. 

I remember one family living in a little house in the Park at 
Welbeck. The man came to me one day, saying that his wife 
had broken her only pair of spectacles, and could not see well 
enough even to walk alone. An appointment was made on the 
spot with a famous oculist in Nottingham, and Winnie sent me 
off in a motor car to take them to see him. Although there were 
lots of sadder cases in the waiting room, being sent by Winnie I 
was taken straight in with my Belgians. When the woman was 
told to read the test letters, from the window where I was stand- 
ing I noticed that she seemed to be reading every letter that 
the doctor pointed to. Amazed by this, I quietly approached 
the chair on which she was sitting, and what did I hear but the 
husband actually whispering the letters to his wife, who then 
loudly and proudly announced them! When the husband had 
somewhat hastily disappeared through the door, to which I had 
pointed, silently but severely, the poor miserable woman could 
not, of course, see anything. 

Another family of refugees, which needed all sorts of clothing, 
was again sent into Nottingham by Winnie, and I was told to 
buy them what they needed. After various other things, the man 
said he badly wanted collars. Now I, in my ignorance, thought 
that a shirt-maker was the place to buy collars, and I walked 
into the collar department followed by my good man. All sorts 
of collars were shown him, in fact the counter was in one minute 
a rolling mass of collars — some very nice ones I thought. The 
man was adamant. Politely, but firmly, he refused them all; 
and as I am not very good at Flemish, while he not only did not 
speak a word of French, but also had some impediment in his 
speech, I could not, for some time, make out what he wanted. 
He seemed uninterested, and in order to accentuate this, began 
looking out of the window. Quite suddenly, with a joyful yelp, 
he excitedly pointed to a rubber shop on the other side of the 
road. Before J. could stop him, he had left the shop and darted 
across the road — ^in the process, first nearly getting run over by a 


•^e. 58- /f'r 



Portland, Elisalex de Baillet Latour, H.M. the Queen of the Belgians, H.M. the King of the Belgians 

tram, and then loudly insulting the conductor for being on the 
wrong side of the road. Now, I don’t think a Britisher likes 
being screamed at by an alien in any case ; but to suggest (and in 
a foreign tongue too!) to the worthy and experienced driver of a 
Nottingham tram, which is clinging dutifully to its rails, that he 
should keep to the right was too much, and consequendy the 
language which the irate gentleman used is unrepeatable I 

Oblivious of this— or as a matter of fact of anything at the 
moment except his goal, which was the rubber-shop — the good 
man beckoned to me wildly, pointing to something in the shop 
window. His expression could only be compared to that of a man 
who, after an exciting treasure-hunt, has at last found the clue. 

An undoubted fact, and psychologically interesting, is this: if 
you want to have a crowd of thirty people gather round you in 
less than two minutes, you need only silendy point to something, 
somewhere, and then stare hard. Of course, if you point and 
scream at the same time, the crowd becomes electrified. Which 
is what happened ! And here was I, shut in, squashed up against 
the window of this dreadful shop, imable to move. 

I knew now that the worst had happened. The man quite 
clearly had never wanted a collar. It explained his extraordinary 
attitude in the collar shop. He evidently wanted something 
quite difierent. What would it turn out to be? A hot-water botde 
seemed to me unlikely; and he couldn’t want a rubber ball, as 
he had no children. 

The crowd pushed more and more to see what the thrilling 
^'hf'ng was: they probably expected to see a fiill-^own crocodile 
swimming in a rubber bath-tub ! My man was still pointing and 
ri^nrtng r on tbft tips of his toes with excitement and annoyance 
with me, because I didn’t see ! At last he asked whether I didn’t see 
that beautiful duck? ‘That beautiful what?’ ‘Duck!’ I looked. 
Yes, there was a hideous, highly coloured celluloid duck, meant 
to s^m in a child’s bath. Now I knew. It was horribly pathetic. 
The poor man was mad. Never mind, he should have his duck. 
What a blessing his poor brain had hit on this harmless thing. 

The tension of the crowd relaxed and they began dispersing. 

V 337 

One kind lady murmured that the man must be ‘a little dotty, 
sort of funny in the head’. But another, more experienced, 
assured her that it could easily be explained by the fact that he 
was a foreigner. 

Having at last managed to enter the shop, the duck was pro- 
duced from the window. With a withering glance at me, he 
brushed it aside, and going to the window with the air of a man 
who is tired of dealing with idiots and therefore takes the matter 
in hand himself, he removed something stiff and greyish, on 
\yhich the duck had been sitting; and there, sure enough, was an 
india-rubber collar! 

There are many happy memories of visits abroad, or journeys 
together, before and after the War, also many funny ones. 
Circulating abroad with Winnie is sometimes a bit tricky. There 
was a dreadful story once in the south of France, when, having 
seen a miserable mule frightfully ill treated, Winnie went to un- 
believable lengths in trying to help. First one must find an 
R.S.P.G.A. (not an easy matter). We had to motor back to the 
place we had just come from, thirty-five miles, to try and find an 
English lady who was the head of the local R.S.P.G.A. When 
we arrived, she had left. After two hours we found her. The next 
thing to do was to try and find a new mule, because the gipsy 
man would only consent to having his unfortunate animal put 
out of its misery when the new mule was standing there. If any- 
one has ever wanted to buy a mule in the south of France, I can 
only say: don’t try ! One would imagine that the place would be 
swarming with mules. Not at all. It appeared to be just the one 
thing which no one knew where to buy. 

To make a long story short, it took us five hours- Every con- 
ceivable person was mobilised. The injured animal was de- 
stroyed, a new mule was produced and given to the gipsy in 
question — ^the end of the story being that we arrived at our des- 
tination at ten o’clock at night instead of in the early afternoon 
(a test of nerves for the Duke and Vera, who had preceded us), 
and that the Duke paid a large sum for the mule, as (Winnie 
told him) she knew he would love to do ! 


New and terrible cases of cruelty have cropped up in the 
goldfish line of late. 

We were staying at Lausanne a few years ago, and Winnie 
and I settled to go for the afternoon to Geneva, where the 
gentlemen of the League of Nations feed and bask in the sun- 
shine. When walking through the streets, we passed a clock shop. 

I was looking at lovely little watches, when Winnie exclaimed 
furiously, ‘This is too monstrous ! I must go in at once.’ Looking 
anxiously to see what was too monstrous, I noticed a little gold- 
fish swimming perfectly happily in a bowl of water. It is true 
that in the same bowl lay a watch, thereby proving its absolute 
unrustabihty to the world. I tried in vain to argue that I had 
seldom seen such a happy-looking little goldfish. Winnie dis- 
dainfully swept this aside, and assured me that the atrocious 
cruelty lay in the fact that goldfish have no eye-lashes (or was it 
eye-lids?) ; therefore they must never be exposed to glaring light. 
With this she entered the shop, and I knew the worst was 

Now Swiss salesmen love to sell their goods to obvious 
strangers; and several eager men approached Winnie, enquiring 
what kind of clock or watch she wanted to see. The avalanche of 
reproaches that was her only answer alarmed them so much that 
they rushed for the proprietor. An elderly gentleman with a 
beard, who then made his appearance, seemed strangely un- 
interested in the fish, and insistent that Winnie should look at 
his clocks and watches. Winnie made it quite clear that the last 
thing in the shop she wanted was either a watch or a clock — 
she only wanted the goldfish! Devoid of heart, he did not see the 
utter iniquity of exposing an eyelidless animal to glaring day- 
light, without even the comfort of sheltering weeds. 

Clearly they had reached a deadlock, so I quickly bought a 
charming little blue watch and, Uke a snake in the grass, whis- 
pered to Winnie that I would so love a little green one hke it, 
which she promptly gave me. Having now bought two watches 
I felt our position to be strengthening, and before long we had 
secured and paid for the precious goldfish as well. 


When we arrived at our hotel in Lausanne, we asked to see a 
place in the garden where we could put the fish. We were shown 
a perfectly good little pond, like every other little pond, I 
thought. The water was clear, and the hotel concierge and I 
tried to persuade Winnie that this was an excellent place for 
goldfish; but Winnie decided that it was not, and that we must 
search further. The concierge brightly and helpfully said that he 
knew the illegitimate son of a former cook of the Sultan of 
Zanzibar, who had married an Enghshwoman and was now a 
Swiss subject, living on his pension in a villa about twenty miles 
away. He would telephone to them at once and announce our 
arrival with the goldfish. When we got there, after an hour’s 
drive in an expensive hired car, we found a black gentieman 
with a very voluble wife, who said that they were great con- 
noisseurs in all kinds of fish. We were taken into the garden and 
there we saw a httle pond identical with the totally inadequate 
one at the hotel. It was said to be a specially good place to put 
them. There were other larger fish in it already, which caused 
Winnie some anxiety lest they should be unkind, and possibly 
eat the newcomer. But the Sultan of Zanzibar’s cook’s son knew 
his fish, and answered for their good behaviour; and so at last 
we got rid of our charge, and I heaved a sigh of rehef. 

The disquieting sequel to this story was, that during the rest 
of Winnie’s stay, there seemed to me a remarkable increase of 
goldfish bowls in the shop windows. 

We laughed a lot during those trips abroad and enjoyed them 
thoroughly. Only Winnie was always longing to be back at 
Welbeck — and especially back at her work, and near her 

It has been an inspiration to me, and has left a lasting mark 
in my life, to see the indescribable amount of good that Winnie 
does. It has always impressed me more deeply than I can say. 

I am not trying to talk of all the great work and services ren- 
dered by the Duke and Winnie in the Coxmty and all round 
them. That is a matter of pubhc knowledge. Their goodness is 
proverbial, and known everywhere. All their actions are 


prompted by kindness always. But I am referring to the hidden 
kindnesses of every day — ^the things nobody knows about. 
These constitute Winnie’s life. Where most other people’s kind- 
ness and help stops, because it seems impossible to go further, 
Winnie still goes on. She does not only give material help — ^she 
gives her time, her heart, her affection. She goes into all the 
troubles of those whom she is helping. She comforts them, and 
brings them sunshine and hope. When she takes ‘a case’ in hand, 
she does not leave a stone unturned until aU humanly possible 
help has been given. 

I have known her go up to London for a Court function and, 
instead of resting, rush off straight from the station to some 
hospital where she had one of her miners. She was anxious to see 
how he was. She had told him she would come that day. Not for 
anything in the world would she let him down. I have also 
known her to dwell for hours by the bed-side of some poor 
patient who was beyond human help, her radiant presence and 
intense sympathy bringing him comfort and strength in his last 

But Winnie and the Duke are rewarded by more love than I 
have ever seen bestowed on anyone — and they deserve it. 

When I was asked to write a chapter for this book, I stipulated 
only one thing: that every word of it should appear. If the 
Pordands don’t like reading the truth about themselves, they 
should have asked someone else to write in their book. 




H yacinthe GabrieEe RoUand, afterwards the Mar- 
chioness Wellesley, was the only daughter of Pierre 
and Hyacinthe Gabrielle (Daris) RoUand of Paris. 
It is believed that she and Lord WeUesley first met in the salon 
of Madame de Genlis, Governess of the Dauphin. Mrs. CoUey 
WeUesley possesses a miniature portrait of her by ViUars, which, 
according to an inscription on the back, was painted ‘dans la 
maison de Madame de GenHs’. 

MUe RoUand came to London in 1 784, where three sons and 
two daughters (see below) were born to her and Lord WeUesley 
in Deanery Street,^ Park Lane. On November 29th, 1 794, they 
were married at St. George’s, Hanover Square. 

After her marriage. Lady WeUesley was several times in 
attendance upon Queen Charlotte, consort of King George III, 
as lady-in- wanting; and on one occasion Her Majesty gave her 
a long gold chain she was wearing, putting it round Lady 
WeUesley’s neck as a token of gratitude for her services. 

From many references to his wife in Lord WeUesley’s corre- 
spondence, it appears that they Uved very happUy together until 
WeUesley’s appointment as Governor-Gener^ of India in 1797. 
Lady WeUesley then remained in England; and she and her 
children continued to receive affectionate mention in his letters 
to her. But after Lord WeUesley’s retium from India in 1806, he 
and his wife soon separated, and they were never again recon- 

^Now Dean Street. 



Afterwards ist Marquess Wellesley (Vigee Lebrun) 

(G. Romney, 1781) By permission of Lord Hatherton 

By permission of the Provost and Fellows of Eton College 


(Ann ]VIee) 

(Sir Thomas Lawrence) 
permission of Lord Hatherton 

In later Ufe, Lady Wellesley lived principally at Teddesley 
Park, Go. Stafford, with her younger daughter, Mrs. Littleton, 
whose husband, Edward Littleton — ^he had changed his name 
from Walhouse in 1812 — ^was afterwards raised to the Peerage as 
Viscount Hatherton. Lady Wellesley died at Teddesley on 
November 5th, 1816, and (although a Roman Catholic) was 
buried in Penkridge Church, where there is a tablet to her 

Her children were: 

1. Richard, born 1787 ; educated at Eton and Christ Church, 
Oxford; afterwards Member of Parliament for Ennis, East 
Grinstead and Yarmouth; married Jane, daughter of William 
Chambers, by whom he had four sons and one daughter; died 

2. Gerald; educated at Eton; in the Bengal Civil Service; died 
sometime before 1864. 

3. Henry, bom 1791 ; student of Christ Church, Oxford, 181 1- 
1828; M.A. 1818; B.D. and D.D. 1847; Principal of New Inn 
HaU, Oxford; author and editor of several books; died January 
nth, 1866. Richard Wellesley, my Company Commander in 
the Staffordshire Militia (see p. 13), was his son. 

1. Anne, bom 1789; married, ist, Sir William Abdy, Bt., 
1806. This marriage was dissolved by Act of Parliament, 1816, 
£ind she married 2ndly, in the same year. Lord Charles Bentinck, 
3rd son of the 3rd Duke of Portland. She died on March 19th, 
1875, having had issue by her second husband two sons and two 
daughters. Her elder son, the Rev. Charles William Frederick 
Bentinck (1817-1865), was by his second wife, formerly Miss 
Burnaby of Baggrave, the father of Cecilia, Countess of Strath- 
more, and of twin girls, Anne Violet and Hyacinthe. Her 
younger son, Lt.-Gen. Arthur Bentinck (1819-1877), was my 

2. Hyacinthe Mary, married December 21st, 1812, Edward 
Littleton of Teddesley Park, Stafford, afterwards created 
Viscount Hatherton of Hatherton. 



( This account of my Masonic career has been compiled by Mr. G. God- 
frey Sellickfrom notes supplied by Bro. F. B. Whitty,for many 
years P.G. Secretary for Nottinghamshire. I am deeply indebted to 
Bro. Whitty for sending them^ and also for the many and varied 
services he has rendered to the Province in general, and to me as 
P.G. Master in particular. 

I also desire to thank R. W. Bro. H. T. Hayman, who, after 
acting for many years as my Deputy, succeeded in as P.G. 
Master for Nottinghamshire, for much kindness, cordial sympathy, 
and unfailing good advice.) 

O n July 14th, 1880, his Grace was initiated in United 
Lodge, No. 1 629. On April 25th, 1 898, he joined House- 
hold Brigade Lodge, No. 2614; and on July 4th in the 
same year, he joined Royal Alpha Lodge, No. 16. The London 
Nottinghamshire Lodge, No. 5133, was founded by him in the 
year 1919. 

In 1892 he was appointed Senior Grand Warden of Grand 
Lodge. Incidentally, it may be remarked that to-day, as Past 
Senior Grand Warden, his Grace ranks second to H.R.H. the 
Duke of Connaught, who heads the Hst. 

In 1898 he was appointed Provincial Grand Master of 
Nottinghamshire; and was installed on July 7th by R.W.Bro. 
Lord Henry Cavendish-Bentinck, Provincial Grand Master of 
Cumberland and Westmorland.^ The Rt. Hon. W. L. Jackson, 

^Lord Henry Cavendish-Bentinck was appointed Provincial Grand Master of 
Cunaberland and Westmorland on April 14th, 1894. In 1901 he was installed 
as Worshipful Master of the Duke of Portland Lodge by Brother F. B. Whitty. 
When he died on the 6th October, 1931, he was third on the list of Provincial 
Grand Masters, which numbered 45. 


Provincial Grand Master for Yorkshire, the Marquess of 
Granby, W.Bro. E. Letchworth, Grand Secretary, and the 
present Lord Mottistone were present at the installation cere- 
mony. Of the 27 Nottinghamshire Grand Officers who were 
present, all, with the exception of the Rev. Canon Hayman, 
have since passed away. 

At the time when his Grace accepted the duties of Provincial 
Grand Master of Nottinghamshire there were 18 Lodges, con- 
taining 853 members. When, after 34 years, he resigned the 
Office in December, 1932, the Province consisted of 49 Lodges, 
and 3,207 members. At the December meeting in 1898 of the 
Provincial Grand Lodge he announced, ‘I am especially desired 
by W.Bro. Lord Kitchener of Khartoum to express his regret 
that he is most unexpectedly deprived of the pleasure of 
meeting Provincial Grand Lodge today.’ 

His Grace’s activities on behalf of Nottinghamshire Free- 
masons have been continuous and beneficial. In 1899, the year 
following that of his installation, he entertained them and their 
ladies at Welbeck; and again on the ist of August, 1907, on 
which occasion 1,900 were present. For many years, also, the 
Welbeck golf course has been available for golf competitions, 
which have realised many thousands of pounds for charity. 

In February, 1909, his Grace presided at the Annual Festival 
of the Royal Masonic Benevolent Institution. He was accom- 
panied by the Duchess ; and her Grace’s presence created a pre- 
cedent, since it was the first occasion of a lady accompanying 
her husband at these functions. The Nottingham brethren sub- 
scribed the record sum of ;(j8,i02 — an average of per head. 
In 1932 he again presided at the Festival of the same Institution 
and was again accompanied by the Duchess, now supported by 
297 ladies. On this occasion the Nottinghamshire brethren sub- 
scribed £30,000 — a record averaging £10 per head. The 
Grand Master, H.R.H. the Duke of Connaught, authorised the 
wearing of the Stewards’ badges by Nottinghamshire brethren 
as permanent jewels. Nottinghamshire is the only Province 
to which this distinction has been twice granted. 


Since his installation on July 7th, 1898, his Grace has laid 
the following Foundation Stones: 

On the 7 th July, 1898, the date of his installation as Pr.G.M., 
he laid the foundation stone of the Jubilee Wing of the Notting- 
ham General Hospital. 

On the 26th July, 1909, of the Church of St. Michael & All 
Angels, Sutton-in-Ashfield. 

On the 4th November, 1913, of the King Edward Wing of 
the Mansfield Hospital. 

On the 26th July, 1922, of Retford HospiteJ, on a pouring wet 

On the 20th April, 1923, of the Parochial Hall, Mansfield, 
for which building the Duke gave the site. He mentioned that 
for no less than ten generations friendship had existed between 
the inhabitants of Mansfield and his family. 

On the 25th July, 1923, of the Memorial Chapel at 
Stapleford, commemorating 172 Stapleford men who gave 
their lives for their coimtry in the Great War. Altogether 1,000 
Stapleford men served. One, W. R. Parker, gained the Victoria 

On the 26th July, 1924, of the Memorial Hall, Gedling. 

On the 22nd April, 1926, of the Newark Hospital Nurses’ 

On the 30th July, 1926, of the Parochial Hall of St. Michael’s 
Church, Sutton-in-Ashfield, and 

On the 31st July, 1930, of the new hospital wing at 

Efis Grace’s collection of 66 trowels, mallets, keys, etc., he 
kindly presented to the Nottinghamshire Freemasons, together 
with the beautiful cabinet in which they are displayed in the 
Masonic Hall, Nottingham. In the Masonic Hall also hangs his 
portrait, which was painted by Richard Jack, R.A., in 1923. 

In 1914 many Freemasons were present at Welbeck, at the 
celebrations of his Grace’s silver wedding and the majority of 
Lord Titchfield. And, fifteen years later, December 19th, 1929, 




at a meeting of Provincial Grand Lodge, Bro. Hayman,^ in pro- 
posing his Grace’s health, informed the brethren that on the 
7th day of that month he had completed fifty years as Duke of 

The following address was delivered by the R.W. Provincial 
Grand Master, the Duke of Portland, to Nottinghamshire 
Grand Lodge, on December 8th, 1910: 

‘ Since the beginning of the present year, the whole country 
deeply deplores the loss of our late beloved King, who, as 
Prince of Wales, was Grand Master of England, and who, after 
ascending the Throne, took the title of “Protector of the Craft”. 
He was the greatest statesman, the truest gentleman and one of 
the best sportsmen that ever Hved. The best friend to his 
country, the friend of the poor, in sympathy always with 
suffering, a kindly champion of pubUc right. He was indeed a 
great man in the best sense of the word, and one who will be 
remembered with affection and respect for many generations to 

‘Brethren, while deeply deploring his loss, we turn with love 
and loyalty to his successor. We welcome him to the throne of this 
country, for we recognise in him the qualities of his father. I 
believe the heart of the nation has gone out to him in sympathy, 
help and loyalty, and I trust it desires to make his reign happy 
and prosperous for himself and his consort; happy and pros- 
perous too for the people of his Empire and his Country.’ 

The Great War [igi^-igiS). Very early in the War five houses 
in Chaucer Street were furnished by the Nottinghamshire 
brethren to house 30 Belgian refugees; and here they were 
comfortably maintained until the Armistice. Also, an appeal by 
the Bishop of Southwell for the erection of a habitation for con- 
valescent soldiers was readily responded to by the brethren. 
Bro. Hayman collected the sum of The late Bro. John 

Howitt was the architect of the camp. Further, two West 

’^His Grace had appointed, in August, 1903, the Rev— afterw^ds Canon— 
H. T. Hayman as Deputy Provincial Grand Master in succession to Judge 


Bridgford Lodges — ^the Welbeck and the Bentinck — provided 
an auxiliary Military Hospital. It was situated on the Trent 
Bridge cricket ground, and was opened by his Grace on January 
1 6th, 1916. A skilled masseur was engaged, and hundreds of 
soldiers received electrical massage treatment. So successful was 
the result that the work was most highly extolled by Colonel 

At Mapperley Hall, where Lady Charles Cavendish-Bentinck 
opened a similar Hospital, an extensive and thoroughly equipped 
medical electrical plant was installed, and the cost — ^upwards of 
;£goo — ^was provided by the Nottinghamshire Masons. Lady 
Charles sent his Grace a letter in December, 1918, gratefully 
acknowledging the help she had received. 

Addressing Provincial Grand Lodge on the 19th December, 
1916, the Duke stated : 

‘We are still finding ourselves engaged in the most stupendous 
struggle ever known in the history of mankind. 

‘Our great consolation is that we and our allies are fighting 
shoulder to shoulder in a righteous cause; and our fixed deter- 
mination is to continue the contest with ever increasing vigour 
until we have vindicated those principles of justice and freedom 
which He at the basis of our conception of civiHsation, and until 
we have won recognition for those principles of honour and 
of fair deahng between Nations which the central powers of 
Europe have treated as negligible and contemptible trifles.’ 

On August I St, 1919, his Grace convened a special meeting of 
Provincial Grand Lodge at the Town Hall, Mansfield, to award 
special honours to five brethren who had distinguished them- 
selves in the War. They were Lt.-Gol. G. A. Robinson; Major 
E. H. Spalding; Lt. Ernest Brooks; Lt.-Gol. F. Rayner, D.S.G., 
and Gapt. E. G. James. 

A bronze tablet on the wall in the Masonic Hall bears the 
names of Nottinghamshire brethren who gave their fives for 
their country in the War. 

THe Jfew Masonic Hall. To the first proposal a large site was 
purchased in Ghaucer Street but, with the opening of the War, 


it was felt that the site was not sufficiently central, so building 
was deferred. The site was therefore sold, and additional land 
purchased adjoining the old Hall — ^which was built in 1880 and 
consecrated on July 2nd, 1881, at a time when Income Tax 
stood at 5d. in the pound. 

His Grace the Duke of Portland laid the foundation of the 
new building at the corner of Goldsmith Street and Bel^ave 
Square on December nth, 1928. He was supported by Canon 
H. T. Hayman, the present Lord Galway, R.W.Bro. G. E. 
Keyser, Provincial Grand Master of Herts, Sir Alfred Robbins, 
President of the General Purposes Committee of Grand Lodge, 
Col. J. M. Wingfield, Brig.-Gen. Walthall, Major Cecil Adams, 
and others. The Hall has a frontage of 156 feet, and covers an 
area of 1,650 square yards. Its cost was upwards of 5(^65,000, 
excluding the value of the site. The architect was Bro. G. E. 
Howitt, who served with distinction on the Italian Front during 
the War. 

The new Hall was opened on Thursday, the 30tli July, 1931, 
by the Grand Secretary, R.W.Bro. Sir P. Colville Smith, who 
was supported by the Duke of Portland, Canon H. T. Hayman, 
Viscoimt Galway, Bro. C. R. I. Nicholl, G.D.G., Brig.-Gen. E. 
G. Walthall, M. H. Clarke, G. Leigh, G. F. Wilkinson and J. R. 
Frears. There was also present Bro. G. T. Alenson, who was 90 
years old and had a clear recollection of the building of the old 



I n order to improve the horses on my estates and to en- 
courage their breeding, what were known as Estate Foal 
Shows were held at Welbeck, at Bothal in Northumberland, 
in Ayrshire, and also in Caithness. All these Shows were highly 
successful ; and they also gave me a welcome opportunity every 
year of meeting my tenants, their wives and their famihes — ^for 
besides the Show a large luncheon W2is held, to which they were 
all invited. At the Welbeck Show luncheon there were some- 
times as many as seven hundred guests, and some notable indi- 
vidual was generally invited to be present. On one occasion, 
when Lord Kitchener came to the Show and the luncheon, no 
less than 20,000 people were present on the showground. 

After a few years the Foal Shows not only improved the 
quality of the horses very greatly, but also created so much good 
feeling and friendship between my tenants and myself, besides 
providing an opportunity for them to meet one another, that it 
was decided to form a Welbeck Tenants’ Agricultural Associa- 
tion. Classes were opened and prizes offered for every sort of 
agricultural stock. Poultry and even bee farming were included. 
Prizes were also offered for the best cultivated farms, and to the 
shepherds who had reared the greatest numbers of lambs. On 
one occasion the entries numbered more than a thousand. The 
same conditions prevailed at the other Shows to which I have 

These Shows continued until the outbreak of the Great War, 


after which, owing to various circumstances, including the sale 
of some part of my estates, it was considered advisable to con- 
tinue only the Welbeck Show, which again became a Show for 
carthorses. The Welbeck Show is still held. My wife, my sons 
and Ivy Titchfield make a point of attending both it and the tea, 
and we spend very happy and pleasant afternoons with those to 
whom I always refer in my speech as my best and oldest friends. 
In 1 9 14 the last Welbeck Tenants’ Agricultural Show took place, 
a day or two before war was declared, and I shall never forget 
the grave feehng of anxiety when I presided for the last time at 
the great luncheon in the Riding School. It was difficult to per- 
suade the seven hundred present that we were on the eve of 
terrible events. I well remember one of my tenants saying, ‘But, 
Your Grace, surely you do not regard the situation as so very 
serious?’ Within the next few months I fear it must have come 
home to them, for many of their sons and other relatives were in 
the County Regiments and before long were going to the various 
seats of war, many of them, alas, never to return. 

At the forty-fifth Show, held on July 30th, I 937 > Shaw 
Browne of Clipstone made a speech, in the course of which he 
was kind enough to say: 

‘The Duke of Portland has not been called “the best landlord, 
in the country” for nothing. I sometimes wonder whether we, as 
tetiants, reahse the many responsibilities attaching to a great 
agricultural landlord. How many of us are as efficient as tenants 
as His Grace is as landlord? 

‘For many years past. Government after Government seems 
to have been obsessed by the idea that any landowner is fair 
game for exploitation. Speaking as a tenant-farmer, I realise 
that the shrewdest blow directed against me is that which fii^t 
cripples my landlord. However, I beheve we are justified in 
hoping that conditions have reached rock-bottom, and will now 
take a turn for the better.’ 

In my reply, I said I agreed with Mr. Shaw Browne as to the 
responsibilities of a large landed proprietor, but that fortunate- 
ly, in my case, I had received invaluable advice and practical 


help from the late Mr. F. J. Turner, who was agent when I 
succeeded, and in later years from his son, Mr. T. Warner 
Turner, who is now the chief agent for my English estates. 

Langwell and Cessnock 

Wishing to help the farmers in Caithness to improve their 
stock, I decided to provide good sires for their use. My agent 
therefore procured a good Clydesdale stallion and well-bred 
bulls — shorthorn, polled Angus and Highland ; and the tenants 
readily took advantage of their services. 

I have every reason to believe that this was successful. The 
rapid improvement of all breeds of stock was most marked. 

The provision of these sires breached over a gap, for the 
Department of Agriculture now provides well-bred bulls for the 
use of crofters and smallholders all over the north of Scotland, 
and the Caithness horse-breeding societies have, for some years, 
hired excellent Clydesdale stallions, which are available to all 
at a moderate fee. 

On the testimony of good judges, I believe that the improve- 
ment in all classes of stock, including Cheviot sheep, is happily 
more marked in Caithness than in any county in Scotland. In 
proof of this, one has only to visit the County Show to observe 
the really good stock which is now bred there. As prizes, I gave 
several young well-bred North Country Cheviot tups, which 
have influenced the improvement in this class of sheep, especi- 
ally those belonging to the crofters. 

With the help of my excellent agent, Mr. J. Harling Turner, 
C.B.E., similar Shows were instituted at Cessnock, in Ayrshire, 
for my tenants in that county. At the same time Highland 
games were held on the afternoons of the Shows at both Lang- 
well and Cessnock. These proved a great attraction, and the com- 
petitors included many of the best-known athletes and pipers 
from all over the country. 

In order to improve the breed of working collies, sheep-dog 
trials were held for several years at Langwell, and also at 
Welbeck, where they still continue. Dogs from the Midlands, 


the north of England and from Wales compete at Welbeck; but 
at Langwell only competitors from Sutherland and Caithness 
were ehgible. These trials did a great deal to improve sheep dogs 
in the north, and it was perhaps in great measure due to the 
puppies, direct descendants of Mr. James Scott of Ancrum’s 
very clever dog, Kep, which were given as prizes. Mr. Scott 
himself was several times judge at both Welbeck and Langwell, 
where he brought his wonderful dogs to exhibit their skill, and 
to show how really good sheep dogs sljould work. I am glad to 
know that at Langwell and Braemore there are still some of 
Kep’s descendants ; and they have been of much value to their 




{Abridged by Lord Desborough from an article which he contributed to 
the Nineteenth Century of May i8g2.) 

O ur camp was pitched by the inevitable httle ‘creek’ 
or small stream, one of the thousands which, big or 
small, run through the forests and upland prairies of 
the Bighorn Mountains, Wyoming, U.S. America, as water is 
the prime necessity of camp l^e. 

The party consisted of a friend, who not long after was to lose 
his debonair and much regretted life by a fall over a precipice 
while hunting mountain sheep ; myself, two hunters and a cook. 
The horses were a mixed lot, as the ones we were to have had 
were stolen just before we came on the scene, and we had to re- 
place them in two days. They all acquired names suiting their 
pecuHarities except the grey, which had no name, but a long 
string of profane epithets. His late owner described him as a 
trifle skittish, which meant that he bit and kicked you when he 
could; and when he was saddled or unsaddled he had to be 
lassoed, his legs tied together, and thrown down. He was unani- 
mously voted as just the horse to suit me, and was my com- 
panion for the trip. Mike was a very quiet sleepy-eyed black, 
who only once broke out, and that was unluckily just after he 
had been packed with our precious flour and sugar, when some- 
thing frightened him, and he galloped off^ and bucked till the 
bags burst, and he disappeared like a black fiend in a white halo. 

This was an unfortunate occurrence, as we were short of food 
and had seen no game; and it made our guide still more regret 



Rocky Moimtains, 1884 

the loss of his horses, the blame for which he put on the Sheriff, 
whom he declared to be the ‘all-firedest old hypocrite that God 
Almighty had ever hid inside a skin’. Something had to be done 
to replenish the larder. The game had been driven away by a 
large party of Crow Indians, who had gone into the mountains 
before us, and wherever we went we came across the trails of 
their horses, and the marks made by their tipe poles as they 
dragged them behind their ponies. The upshot of the conference 
was that I bet my companion five dollars to one that I got a 
beast before breakfast the next day — a wager which came near 
costing me dear. It was setded as well to move camp next midday. 

Next morning the remembrance of the bet woke me up long 
before anyone in camp was stirring. Silentiy and sleepily I got 
out my rifle and cartridges, not forgetting pipe and lights, and 
slipped quietly out into the still frosty air. Now for the deer ! 
But first to mark the camp. That is easy enough, for our two 
little tents lie below the most remarkable eminence that we had 
come across in our wanderings. The hill which faced our camp 
rose slowly on the left-hand side, fringed with burnt timber till it 
reached a great height, and then dropped sheer down to the 
sage-brush plain below— a soHd wall and frowning precipice of 
red rock, with a profile resembhng that of the most versatile 
Prime ^Minister of our time. If this massive rock can be kept in 
view, the way back to camp will not be hard to find. While the 
surroundings are being taken in and carefully noted, the long 
streaks of dawn are getting brighter and brighter, and there is 
little time to lose if a deer is to be got before camp is moved at 

After a fruitless walk of some miles I climb a hill, and from 
the top see nothing to reward me except the head of the red 
rock which frowns above our tents, making, as I fondly hope, 
the return to camp an easy task. Before setting my face for 
home the deer must be got, so I plunge again into the forest, 
and scramble over the fallen timber, which makes locomotion 
on foot or horseback so tedious in the Rockies. After a longish 
walk I emerge on the other side, and to my joyfiil surprise 


see the hindmost of a herd of blacktail deer just entering 
the timber beyond me. With all the speed possible I follow as 
softly as may be over the fallen timber into the heart of the dark 
pine forest, and see them disappearing into a thick and rocky 
gulley, through which all attempts to track them prove unavail- 
ing. The sun is now up with a vengeance, and they must be 
thinking of moving camp, so I must set out to find it. I climb a 
hill to look for the well-known rock. There it is, and I walk to- 
wards it. It seems the same, but not a vestige of the camp is to be 
seen. I climb the hiU itself, but see no sign of life anywhere. I sit 
down and yell, and fire several shots from my .500 rifle, but no 
answer comes back save the silence. I climb down and hunt the 
base of the hiU for tracks of the horses, but there is nothing to be 
seen of them. It is long past midday, and they must have moved 
camp. Matters are beginning to look serious. The sun has begun 
to go down, and it looks like a night in the open. I know that the 
plains below are not very far distant, and have been told that 
they are inhabited; so I turn my face north-west, where I be- 
lieve the valley to lie, and press on in the hope of getting a view 
of it before the marvellously short twilight of the Rocky Moun- 
tains comes on. 

After a long trudge without any signs of life showing them- 
selves, I give up the thought of reaching any shelter for the 
night, and make preparations for spending it where I am. They 
are of a simple character: there is nothing to be done except to 
collect suflScient wood to keep the fire going. A half-burnt tree 
yields to a push, and falls with a crash to the ground, providing 
fuel for the night. Sleep, however, is out of the question, as the 
wood fire quickly bums down, and the intense cold of the frosty 
night makes one start up to replenish it. Hour after hour drags 
slowly by, and I sit there staring at the moon, which never 
seems to move. If only the dawn would come I could start off 
towards the plains below, and perchance strike a trail leading 
down to some habitation. Although I have had nothing to eat 
for twenty-four hours I do not feel hungry, but cannot help 
wondering how long one can go on without food. 


At last the dawn breaks, and I resume my pilgrimage, climb- 
ing down and up a series of most forbidding canyons, always 
hoping to get sight of the plains below. My feet, shod with lawn 
tennis shoes, are now getting much cut about by the rocks. A 
tree grouse springs up and flies to the top of a neighbouring fir 
tree, and I take a steady shot at its head and cut it off. I put the 
bird in my pocket for my dinner, and resume my climbing. The 
last canyon takes a good two hours down and up, and at last I 
see the plains. But what a sight! Nothing but bare alkali ‘bad 
lands’ gleaming in the sun, right up to the snowy peaks of the 
main range of the Rocky Mountains many miles away. And this 
is the hope that had been bearing me up through two long days 
and one still longer night ! I take survey of the plains through 
my telescope, which does not show a sign of life of any kind, or 
even of water or any green thing. What is to be done now? It is 
no use going down on to that arid plain, and it is better to stick 
to the mountains where there are at least wood and water, so I 
determine to keep to the edge of the mountains till I find some 
trail leading down to the plain, where I had been told there 
were some inhabitants, if they could only be found. There was 
no use trying to go back and look for the camp, as it must have 
been moved, or my shots would have been heard. 

The dread of another night like the last puts me on my feet 
again, and I spend another long day climbing into and out of 
canyons without much hope, and another long night at the 
bottom of a very deep one. I rig up a long stick atid tie the 
grouse to it with a pocket handkerchief, and twirl the bird over 
the embers, and take a little of it; but though I had been with- 
out food for some forty hours I do not feel hungry, and pack the 
remains away in the handkerchief for the next day. 

The canyon is a very steep and narrow one. The moon rises 
and seems fixed in the sky, so slowly do the minutes pass. 
Through the long dark hours there is time for many thoughts, 
and the same thoughts occur over and over again. What a fool I 
am to die here slowly of starvation when I imght h^ve been 
comfortably in camp, or perhaps better still at home in bed. 


Why did I come out at all to die three thousand miles from 
home with impotent rage in my heart, subdued from time to 
time by prayer? How do men die here of starvation? Wandering 
on, tumbling over rocks and into streams, till reason vanishes 
and their strength fails them. But what a prospect ! To feel one- 
self getting weaker and weaker, but so slowly; and those endless 
lonesome nights. How many of them can one . pass through, 
while the cruel moon stands still above one’s head? When will 
this night come to an end? What shall I do when it does? Then 
would come fits of anger and bitterness, and my hand would in- 
stinctivelyfeel my pocket to find if the two precious cartridges were 
still safe, which I had put by in case the worst should come to the 
worst — anything would be better than to die inch by inch like this. 

I start at dawn on my south-west tramp, searching for trails 
to the plain below, and cross several more canyons more slowly 
than before, spying occasionally through my telescope; but I 
see nothing to encourage me. The country at last opens out. 
Some way in front there is a long belt of dense pine wood, ex- 
tending perhaps for some miles. I debate which side of it to go, 
and decide for no particular reason to go to the left. Suddenly, as 
by a miracle, there steps out of it some half-mile away a man in 
a red shirt, who calmly sits down. I can hardly believe my eyes. 
I slowly trudge up to him, a sorry object, with my face black 
from sitting two nights in the smoke of the fire, heels raw from 
three days’ climbing canyons in thin rubber shoes, and half a 
grouse in my knickerbocker pocket. 

When within speaking distance my first words are, as soon as 
I can get them out, T have never been so glad to see anyone 
before, and don’t expect much I shall ever be again.’ ‘Well,’ he 
said, T guess you’re lost. How did you get here?’ I told him 
shortly what had happened. ‘Oh, you’re with Bob Stewart, are 
you? I know him well. But it’s the greatest chance in the world 
that you came across me. I live ten miles away down below, 
and only came up last night with a couple of horses to try to get 
a bait foi^a* bear trap. If I can get hold of a bear, the grease will 
do for my cooking through the winter.’ 


It appears that his name was Frank Sykes, and that he lived 
quite alone, hardly seeing the face of a white man from year’s 
end to year’s end. Why he hved this solitary life I do not know; 
certainly not for want of conversational powers, as he never' 
stopped talking the whole time I was with him. He took me to 
his tipe^ and produced some potatoes and dried pemmican, but 
I didn’t much want to eat. 

‘Now then, we must find your party. How did you get to your 
last camp?’ 

‘I remember we passed Paint Rock, and were on our way to 
the Ten Sleep lakes.’ 

‘Oh, then I know whereabouts Bob would probably camp if 
you came by Paint Rock about midday. How did you miss 

I told him the story of the hill with the red precipice, by 
which I had marked the camp. 

‘Oh,’ said Frank Sykes, ‘as to that rock, there are a dozen 
round there so ahke that you could hardly tell them apart. If 
you get on to that mare we will soon see whether they have 
moved or not; and if they have we can foUow them. Mind how 
you get on to her. She is rather handy with her hind legs. I am 
afraid I have not got another saddle for her.’ 

My feet, being much swollen, hurt a good deal as they hung 
down without saddle or stirrups, but that was nothing compared 
with the joy of being found instead of lost. The hand of Pro- 
vidence must have guided me to the left side instead of the right 
of the big wood, otherwise I should never have come across 
Frank Sykes. 

He had seen me coming along, and his first impulse had been 
to avoid me ; but, struck by my woe-begone appearance, he de- 
termined to show himself and await developments, and I for- 
tunately said just the right thing when I came up to him. He 
asked me which way I was going when he saw me. I said south- 
west till I found a trail leading down to the plains, as I had been 
told that they were inhabited in places. 

‘So they are,’ he said, ‘but there are no trails. The people do 


not come up into the mountains. Throw that compass away. 
You should watch the sun and the running water. If you had 
gone on the way you were going, in four miles you would have 
run into the darndest lot of canyons you ever saw, and lots of 
them. As for people, there are none except one Swede who has a 
horse-ranch sixty miles away; and it would have been a great 
chance if you had come across him. ’ 

‘Well,’ I said, ‘that makes the pleasure of your society all the 

We rode all day to the accompaniment of a flow of conversa- 
tion which never stopped, and at last came across a single 
horseman who was one of our guides hunting for me. He took 
us back to camp, where we were received with fitting rejoicings, 
and much questioning late into the night, till suddenly our 
litde tent came down about our ears, borne down by the 
weight of the snow which had been falling with a solid per- 

If anything could have added to one’s joy at being found, in- 
stead of lost and wandering alone in the mountains, it was the 
sight next morning of the whole coimtry round lying wrapped 
in a thick white shroud, and the branches of the pine trees 
bending low under a foot of snow. 

So ended an experience — ^not untowardly. But within a week 
of my return to camp we were hunting for my companion as he 
had been hunting for me, and for seven days searching for that 
which we dreaded to find, and which, when we did find it, was 
all that remedned of one of the truest and most light-hearted 
EngUshmen who have ever been taken by the love of adventure 
into the Rocky Mountains. 


The companion to whom Lord Desborough alludes was 
the eldest son of Lord Leigh of Stoneleigh Abbey, a popular 
Member of Parliament and cricketer, and one of the last per- 
sons one would have associated with a tragedy. He rode out one 
day, the last he meant to spend in the mountains, and did not 


come back. Next morning at daybreak the search for him began. 
His horse was found at the mouth of a canyon where he had left 
it to climb after mountain sheep. The search was continued for 
a week, the canyon being taken ledge by ledge from daylight to 
dark, with the hope of finding him alive diminishing every day. 
On the seventh day, a Sunday, WiUy Desborough found his 
body at the foot of a precipice, down which, as the searchers 
well knew, there was no means of descent for several miles. 
Willy went to the spot from which poor Leigh had fallen, 
found his rifle, and saw the marks left by his feet on some 
loose shale. He had evidendy slipped before he even saw the 
precipice down which he foU. The body was so broken that 
death must have been instantaneous. One of the guides was im- 
mediately dispatched to cable to England, and the remains 
after many adventures were taken to New York and sent home. 





{This account of the Lipizzaner breed of horses was written for me, about the 
year igoo, by Count Ferdinand Kinsky, First Equerry, and laUr Master 
of the Horse, to the Emperor Franz Joseph. I reproduce it in his own 

T he Imperial Stud Lipizza, on the Karst highland in 
Krain, is of great significance and importance for horse 
breeding in Austria-Hungary. 

‘This Stud is situated on a highland where grows a grass of 
exqmsite quality, but this grass is very thin and sparse because 
of the scarcity of water, which is often the case, and on account 
of the squally north storms which afilict those parts very often. 

‘For more than two centuries horse breeding in Austria- 
Hungary has been managed by the Government, and for this 
we are indebted chiefly to the Emperor Joseph II, who reigned 
from 1780 to 1790. 

‘But excellent horses were also bred in the Imperial Studs of 
Austria in former centuries. 

‘The ancestors of these horses came from Spain and Italy. 
Archduke Charles, the third son of the Emperor Ferdinandus I, 
soon discovered the fine qualities of these excellent horses, and 
therefore laid the foundation of a Stud in the village Lipizza in 
the year 1580, where such first-rate horses were bred that they 
were destined and reserved for the Imperial Mews. 

‘The first material which was used in Lipizza for breeding 
was Spanish horses, most likely products of a cross breeding be- 
tween Oriental horses and the big country horses of the Pyre- 
nean Peninsula. 


‘Later on, horses from North Italy were also brought to 
Lipizza, and in the eighteenth century even, several German 
and Danish stallions were used with great success. The Emperor 
Charles the Sixth enlarged the Stud in the year 1722 by buying 
the Adelsberg Estate, and in 1736 he founded a little branch 
stud in the former Monastery of Prestraneck. 

‘From the year 1809 to 1815, the whole Karst Stud belonged 
to Marshal Marmont, and was partly removed to the environs 
of Arad in Hungary, but later, this part returned to Austria, and 
the whole Stud to the possession of the Austrian Court. 

‘In 1829 riding horses from the Stud Koptsan near Holits 
were brought to Lipizza, and the order was given that the last- 
named Stud should provide in future the Imperial Mews with 
white horses. 

‘In the beginning of the nineteenth century they began to 
breed systematically with Oriental blood. How eminently the 
Arabian stallions proved first-rate breeding horses is testified by 
the names Siglavy, Gazlan, Hadudi, Samson and Ben Azet, 
which are engraved in golden letters in the ann<ils of the 
Stud. Though it is true that the registers of Lipizza only begin 
with the year 1701, yet the Karst horses were well known long 
before this for their vigour and tough longevity, they being very 
often used tiU the age of thirty. 

‘According to the register of the Stud in the year 1701, the 
stalHon Cordova was brought there ; his name shows his Spanish 
origin. Further, after 1717, there were brought to Lipizza 
stations from Italy and from Denmark, which also had Spanish 
blood in their veins, and from the Stud of the Prince Lippe 
Buckenburg, the stallion Lipp whose numerous descendants 
were highly estimated and much sought after through the whole 

‘It is well known that in former times Andalusian staUions 
were renowned and had the best reputation, for in the sixteenth 
century many Studs made use of these famous horses. Now the 
noble Andalusian horses were doubtless cross productions of the 
original big horses from the Pyrenees with Berber or Arab 


stallions, even from the time when the Moors held chief power 
in Granada and Andalusia. From this crossing sprang an un- 
changed race, whose chief characteristics are their proportional 
height, round croup, a sheepshead with a distinct ramsnose, a 
high-stepping trot, their absolute obedience, and tough en- 

‘The blood of this breed is to be found in numerous other 
stocks in Europe, and it is no wonder, for the Lipizzan stock may 
be considered the truest ideal of a noble horse. 

‘The pure Spanish horse lost its breeding, and the Polesinian 
and Neapolitan horses not much later. These stocks had lost 
their hereditary power, which made it impossible to use them 
for the improvement of other breeds. For this reason recourse 
was made to stallions from Denmark and Holstein, as it was 
said that in these countries descendants of the Spanish-Italian 
horses were still to be found. 

‘In this way the stallion Pluto came to Lipizza in 1765, 
Junker followed in 1 767, and Danese in 1 795, all from Denmark, 
in 1771 the stalHon Saltadore came from Holstein, and in the 
latter part of the eighteenth century the famous stallion Tos- 
canello came from the Camelstud in Pisa, where, on the mouth 
of the river Arno, half-wild horses were bred. 

‘Under such circumstances it was at last impossible to avoid 
breeding in and in, and that, nevertheless, no bad qualities 
were produced, can only be explained by the fact that all 
stallions and mares sprang from an old and very constant race, 
that they found in Lipizza a particularly healthy climate, excel- 
lent pasture and fodder, and the greatest care and education by 
methodical and natural movements both under the saddle and 
in driving. Finally the endurance of these horses was always 
thoroughly tested before they were chosen for breeding. 

‘It is a strange fact that the various and numerous crossings of 
Lipizzan horses with English thoroughbreds always had but un- 
important results. Yet as they had to breed in Lipizza not only 
carriage horses for the Imperial Court, but also elegant and 
strong riding horses, they found that it was absolutely necessary 

to import original Arab stallions. Nowadays, there are bred in 
Lipizza several different families. 

'The true old Lipizzan race of Spanish-Italian origin is repre- 
sented by the families Pluto, Gonversano, Neapolitano, Favory 
and Maestoso, being now and again crossed with Arab stallions. 
Among these Arab stallions the names Gazlan, Saydan, Samson, 
Hadudi and Ben Azet are well known. 

‘Some products of this cross breeding were crossed with an 
excellent Arabian stallion named Siglavy, and from this sprang 
the new Lipizzan family Siglavy. 

‘The characteristic qualities of the old Lipizzan horse are the 
following: the height differs between 1.57 and 1.67 m. \i.e., 
roughly, between 15.2 and 16.2 hands]; the head is expressive, 

, with gently bowed nose; the somewhat strong neck is elegantly 
arched, and ornamented with a long, thin, but close mane ; the 
back is mostly long, but muscular and well closed ; the hips are 
broad and solid, the flanks well filled; the croup is round, with 
strong muscles, and provided with a long, beautiful, well-set tail ; 
the legs are short, but strong and clean, with projecting steely 
tendons ; the hocks are broad, and the hoofs beautiful and well 
formed. These horses are distinguished also for an imusually 
tough constitution, and the best digestive power; they are very 
docile, and always obey willingly. An excellent high step is 
peculiar to them. 

‘The Lipizzan horses are also remarkable through their great 
endurance, and particular longevity. They are not really fully 
matured until seven years old. Defects on the legs, such as splints 
and so on, are seldom to be seen. It is also well known that 
these horses are so tame that a perfect stranger can carelessly 
move among the herd and in the stables without danger. 

‘The horses are born school horses, and the Spanish Riding 
School makes use of them with great success, and owes the greatest 
part of its fame to the excellent qualities of the Lipizzan horses. 

‘The best-made stallions are sent, when four years old, as 
riding horses to the Spanish Riding School, where during their 
education they are thoroughly examined as to their qualifica- 


tions, and the best are sent back again as breeding stallions to 
the Stud. 

‘The mares and geldings, when five years old, are sent to the 
Imperial Mews at Vienna, and are there trained as carriage 

‘Lipizza supphes the Imperial Court in Vienna to the present 
day with first-rate riding and carriage horses, which are highly 
estimated for their vigour, elegant form, high step, remarkable 
speed and endurance. 

‘The Lipizzan horse is also bred in Hungary in the Stud 
Fogaras, and in many private studs in Austria and Hungary. 
The Governments of both named allied States very often make 
use of these excellent stallions to better and to improve the 
horse breeding in many districts. 


First Equerry to the Emperor of Austria^ King of Hungary,^ 

Motes by Mr. W. Waugh of Kingsclere on the Pedigrees of Grey 
Stallions and Mares imported from Austria 

‘Reiner Karster’ means that the horse or mare is a thorough 
or clean-bred Lipizzaner, and has no Arab or English blood at 
all in his or her pedigree. 

The Stud, which has existed 300 years, is ojfficially named 
‘Hof Gestiit am Karst’. 

The breed was founded by crossing the mares of the country 
with Spanish sires; in the last century this breed was crossed 
frequently with Arabs, and only a few lines of mares have been 
kept clean. 

The Karst region is a range of barren, stony hills in Krain and 

When weaned, I befieve, the foals are sent north of Trieste to 
the Imperial Stud Prestraneck. 

‘G. Kr’ means that the blood has been crossed, but this w ill 
only be found pretty high up in the fine, I see. 

There are six different fines of sires standing at Lipizza: 
Maestoso, Favory, Pluto, Conversano and Neapofitano, and 


Premier Grand-Maltre de la dour et Grand-Ecuyer de S. M. Apostobque 

(J. von Blaas, 1890) 

the Arab line Siglavy; the colts are always called after their 
sires, but to distinguish them the name of the dam is added; 
fillies are named after their dams, or after another mare in the 
pedigree line, or from the name of a place or hill in the country 
round about. 

‘Karst’ is a Lipizzaner, but not clean bred. 


{In order to complete Count Ferdinand Kinsky^s account of the stud. Count 
Rudolph van der Straten, who has been in charge of it since the fall of the 
Austro-Hungarian monarchy in igi8, has very kindly sent me the follow- 
ing notes. I am extremely grateful to him for the trouble he has taken to 
make the account of the Lipizzarurs as complete as possible.) 

The Lipizzaner stud-farm, which had been established in 
Lipizza in 1580 by the Archduke Charles, son of Emperor 
Ferdinand I, governor of these southern provinces, remained 
there till spring 1915. Within this long time it has only been 
removed temporary in war-time, the last time during the war 
against Napoleon. As soon as possible the horses always returned 
to their home places, Lipizza and Prestraneck. In 1915, as the 
war broke out against Italy, Count Ferdinand Elinsky was still 
Master of the Horses in the Imperial Court stables. I, myself 
having been an A.D.C. of his late Imperial Highness, Archduke 
Francis Ferdinand, got first equerry, immediately after his 
death at Sarajevo, under Count Kinsky’s command. Although I 
had joined the Army at that time, I always remained in touch 
with the Court stable and the stud-farms. So I am able to give 
the following description of the Lipizzaners’ fate. In the very 
moment as Count Kinsky saw that the war between Italy and 
Austria was unavoidable, he gave the order to evacuate the 
horses from Lipizza and Prestraneck. In three trams, in greatest 
haste, about 300 horses were brought to Laxenburg, near 
Vienna. Laxenburg was an Imperial property with a castle, 
numerous stables and paddocks. This order of Count Khnsky 
to remove the stud-farm from Lipizza was given just in time, as 
Lipizza was in the absolute neighbourhood of the well-known 


battlefields, the ‘Deberdo* and ‘Hermada’. The stud-farm 
surely would have been immediately destroyed by the bombs 
of the aeroplanes, as the white horses would have been too 
visible in the paddocks. In Laxenburg the Lipizzaners re- 
mained till the end of the war, and then farther on till 1920. As 
there wasn’t room enough for all the horses in Laxenburg, 
about 50 of them (four-year-old horses) were sent to the second 
Imperial stud-farm, to Kdadriib in Bohemia. These horses, as 
well as the Kladriib horses, were all requested by the Czechs 
after the war. In Laxenburg the Lipizzaners didn’t feel very 
comfortable, as they missed the Hme-soil of the rocky Karst 
country of Lipizza, also the pasture was not to be compared to 
the Lipizzaner food. I remember a very queer event: within 
two days, the foals had eaten the long hairs of the mares’ tails — 
probably they searched for a certain taste they couldn’t fin d in 
their actual food. Also the difierent climate of the Viennese 
coimtry, in comparison to the sea-air of Lipizza, did not suit 
them at all. In January 1916 (sad to say) Count Ferdinand 
Kinsky died quite suddenly and I was obliged to take his place 
during several months, till Prince Nicolas Palffy was nominated 
Master of the Horse. I felt worried, already at this time, about 
the fate of the Lipizzaners. I saw that they got skinnier and 
weaker and didn’t seem to be in good condition at all. The 
paddocks were damp, and we had already to begin to save oats 
with the mares, in consequence of the war. In the early summer 
of iqibj Prince Palffy, a very fine horseman and specially horse- 
breeder, owner of a private little Lipizzaner stud-form in 
Hungary, got Master of the Horse. He devoted his attention im- 
mediately to the Lipizzaners in Laxenburg, without being able 
to help. In the beginning of 1918 , 1 had to join my regiment and 
only came home in the unlucky days of November 1918, which 
brought the end of the beautiful Imperial stables and stud- 
farms. One can’t imagine the disorder which took place. Prince 
Palffy was obHged to retire, t had to be present at the sad 
hqmdanon of everything concerning the horses. His Majesty the 
late Emperor Charles gave me the order to save as much as 


Hofburg, Vienna 

Hofburg, Vienna 

possible. We succeeded, with the help of all the horsemanship 
of -^^stria, to preserve the Lipizzaner stud-farm to be destroyed^ 
and to keep up the Spanish Riding School. At first the stud-farm 
was claimed by the Italians, under the pretext that it was the 
native race of the country near Trieste. I personally opposed 
severely to this opinion, which was favoured by some socialistic 
members of the new government. My point of view was this, 
that the native horse of the country down there was a tiny Httle 
mountain horse, or even a mule, and that the Lipizzaners were 
horses, which had only been bred specially in Lipizza 
and Prestraneck because the climate and the country were 
extremely useful for their breeding. At last we succeeded, after 
long and disagreeable pour-parlers^ to divide the stud-farm; 72 
mares and foals remained in Austria, and 109 were taken by 
Italy, back to Lipizza. 

Although nearly twenty years have passed since that time, I 
don’t know much of these horses’ fate in Lipizza. I only know 
that Italy has continued to breed them, but they seem to have 
made trials in crossing them with other blood, wliich can’t have 
been a success. The above mentioned 72 Lipizzaners were over- 
taken by the Austrian Ministry of Agriculture, and were trans- 
ferred to the province Styria, to a place caUed Fiber near Graz. 
A military stud-farm existed since about 150 years in Fiber, 
which also belongs to-day to the Ministry of Agricxilture. This 
is the new home of the Lipizzaners. It is in the moimtains, with 
paddocks in the height of 1,700 metres above the sea. The cir- 
cumstances are very suitable there, cilthough not so good as in 
Lipizza, as the horses haven’t got the bracing sea-air there. 
Altogether one can say that the Lipizzaners are feeling very, 
comfortable in Fiber, and haven’t changed within these seven- 
teen years, in comparison to the horses bom in Lipizza. I only 
hope that this excellent breeding won’t ever be destroyed! 

Vienna, December^ 1936- 

Late first Equerry of the Imperial Court stables in Vien?ia. 

^From being destroyed. P. 



(/ am indebted to iny old friend Col. Sir Weston farvis, for the 

following notes about my brother Henrfs political campaign in North- 
West Norfolk, 1883-1886.) 

T he Reform Bill of 1885, with the consequent Redistribu- 
tion of Seats Bill, divided the constituency of West 
Norfolk, hitherto represented by two members, into 
two single-member constituencies called North-West and South- 
West Norfolk, respectively. 

Mr. George Bentinck, a kinsman of the Duke of Portland, 
known in the House of Commons and elsewhere as ‘Big Ben’, to 
distinguish him from Mr. George Cavendish-Bentinck (also 
in the House of Commons, and known as ‘Little Ben’) who had 
represented West Norfolk from 1852 to 1865, and again from 
1871 to 1884, retired in the latter year. The distinguished states- 
man and sportsman. Lord George Bentinck, had also repre- 
sented King’s Lynn for many years, as had his uncle. Lord 
Wilham Bentinck, Governor-General of India; and it was there- 
fore resolved to invite Lord Henry Bentinck, brother of the 
Duke, to champion the Conservative cause in the North-West 
Division, in order to retain the family connection so long asso- 
ciated with the county. 

Lord Henry, then a young man of twenty-two, accepted the 
invitation, and immediately threw himself into the task with all 
the vigour of youth. His opponent was Joseph Arch, the head of 
the Agricultural Labourers’ Union, who was undoubtedly the 
strongest candidate that could possibly have been selected for 
such a constituency. The agricultural labourers had been ad- 
mitted to the franchise under the Act, a great proportion of the 


First Equerry of the Imperial Court Stables 

. Pettifer, Henry Bentinck, M.P., A. W. Jarvis, P. Bagenal 

new voters being hardly fitted for that privilege, and ready to 
believe any exaggerated statements that might be made to 

Arch had tremendous support in the uplands of Norfolk, 
where the farms are large, and great numbers of labourers were 
employed, who were led to believe that the farmers and landlords 
were their enemies, that the landlords had stolen the land which 
really belonged to them, and that now was the time for them to 
get a ‘bit of their own back’. The doctrine inaugurated by Mr. 
Gladstone of ‘three acres and a cow’ was widely preached, and 
everything done to inflame the passions of such a community. 
LucMly, in the fen districts there was a considerable number of 
yeoman farmers and small-holders, who realised they had some- 
thing to lose, and were consequently our supporters. 

Such was the atmosphere in which the great battle, which 
soon became known as the fight between the Lord and the 
Labourer, commenced. 

Lord Henry had appointed as his agent Mr. Philip Bagenal, 
an Irishman with a great gift of speech and a charming person- 

The magnitude of the task before us was not underestimated, 
and the battle raged without intermission for many months — ^in 
fact, from the summer of 1885 until the General Election in 


Night after night we attended uproarious meetings, some- 
times driven off the platform, and frequently stoned out of the 
villages i but we always managed to come up smiling. 

Lord Randolph Churchill, then at the height of his fame and 
a very popular poHtical character, came down to help us in 
October 1885, and made a brilliant speech at King’s Lynn. We 
were at dinner before the meeting, when he said to me. Tell me, 
how are you fellows getting on down here?’ ‘Well,’ I replied, I 
thmk I can best describe it by telling you that a man came to see 
me in the Committee room this morning, and after asking how I 
was after the preceding evening (when we had been driv^ o 
the platform) said, ‘I would like you to remember, sir, that I 


was last off the platform last night/ ‘Good heavens/ said Lord 
Randolph, ‘is that how you are going on? I know jolly well who 
will be first off the platform if there is a row tonight.’ I think his 
mind was refieved when I told him that I had received a letter 
from Jem Mace, the great boxer, asking for a ticket for the 
meeting and offering any assistance he could give us ! When the 
meeting commenced and Lord Randolph had begun to speak, 
there was a bit of disturbance. The Chairman’s opening speech 
had been a trifle long, and the audience was impatient. Lord 
Randolph looked round at me, and raised his eyebrows, as much 
jas to say, ‘Is it time for me to leave?’ and then smiHngly resumed. 
During this disturbance I was much amused to see our impetuous 
Irishman, Philip Bagenal, who was watching events in the body 
of the hall, hustling a man towards the door, through which they 
disappeared locked in each other’s arms. They rolled down the 
steps of the building into the Market Place, when he discovered 
that the man he had ejected was one of our best supporters, a 
clergyman from an adjoining village ! 

The letter Jem Mace had written to me was as follows, the 
pith of it being in the postscript: 

i 2 ,th October i 1885. 

Dear Sir, 

‘Will you kindly send me two tickets for the meeting at Lynn 
on the 19th. I would not have troubled you only I did not know 
where else to apply. 

‘I was at the meeting at Norwich on Monday night, it was a 
grand meeting. I hope Lynn will be as good. 

Yours very respectfully 

J. Mage. 

‘P .S. If there is any little thing I can do, I shall be very pleased 
to do it.’ 

Throughout the whole of that autumn, Henry, P hili p 
Bagenal and I were speaking at a village meeting practically 
every night in the week, many of them excessively noisy and 
disturbed, but we stuck to our guns. Upon one occasion, at a 


village which was noted as an Arch stronghold, after throwing 
stones through the windows and on the roof of the schoolroom 
in which the meeting was held, they proceeded to let oflP fire- 
works inside, and it was not easy to expladn one’s political views 
when at the same time one was bombarded by roman candles ! 
We were also heavily stoned when driving away in a dogcart 
after the meeting, and Colonel Loftus Tottenham (often known 
from his size as ‘Lofty Tot’), who was speaking for us on that 
occasion, refused to have his overcoat brushed, and the marks of 
the mud and stones with which he had been hit removed, imril 
he returned to London the next day and hung it up in the 
Carlton Club to show the perils he had gone through, and the 
savages he had encountered in Norfolk. 

And so the game went on until the polling day in December, 
when we found that, although we had put up a great fight, the 
odds were too heavy and we were defeated by 640. 

Henry was naturally disappointed, but we reminded him of 
the fact that our neighbours had been in many instances de- 
feated by larger majorities, and it was only a question of our 
being able to convert 320 more in order to win. , 

During this campaign we frequently had the assistance of 
a dehghtful working man named Pettifer (‘Petit Verre’, Henry 
used to call him), who was an admirable speaker; and after the 
election I had a most characteristic letter from him, from which 
the following is an extract: 

‘You say it is better pursuing the fox than pursuing the 
agricultural labourer, but how about when the labourer pur- 
sues us, especially when he has a stick or stone in his paw. You 
remember what the poet says about Hodges: 

How dense is the agricultural mind. 

To its own interests how deaf and blind, 

Without thought or soul of the smallest kind. 

For anything higher than turmits ! 

(Shakespeare, or any other man.)’ 

Early in 1 886, Gladstone surrendered to Parnell, who, with 
his 82 Nationalist votes, held the balance of power in the House, 


and we realised that it would not be long before there was an- 
other general election on the Home Rule question. We there- 
fore gave the labourers very little rest, and by February were 
hard at work again at our village meetings. Our anticipation 
proved to be correct, and when the secession of Lord Harrington, 
Joe Chamberlain, and the Liberal Unionists brought about 
Gladstone’s defeat in June, we were more than ready for the 

We had naturally closely watched Arch’s sayings and votes 
in the House, and constantly exposed them in the constituency. 
The poor man got terribly ‘rattled’, and we pounced upon any 
explanation he might give. On one occasion he described 
hirnself as ‘Simple Joseph Arch’, upon which we published a 
little poem, consisting of many verses, three of which were as 

For many a year I’ve travelled about. 

When I was thin, and when I was stout ; 

I can tickle a labourer just like a trout — 

Simple Joseph Arch ! 

I started a Union years ago, 

’Twas just the thing for strugghng Joe ; 

I’ve played it high, and I’ve played it low — 

Simple Joseph Arch ! 

As President, well the thing I ran. 

Tuppence a week from every man, 

Down with the farmers was the plan — 

Simple Joseph Arch ! 

At another meeting he boasted that his effigy was in Madame 
Tussaud’s exhibition. This of course was too good an oppor- 
tunity to miss, and I had the greatest pleasure in explaining to 
those who had never had the opportunity of going there that 
there were two chambers in that exhibition, and that he had 
left us in terrible doubt as to which chamber it was in which his 
figure was displayed, for it would be a fearful disgrace to the 
constituency if it was the Chamber of Horrors. 


Probably the greatest mistake he made during the short time 
he was M.P. was when he opposed an Allotments Bill introduced 
by Henry Chaplin. Allotments for labourers was a somewhat 
burning question in the eastern counties, and we saw our 
opportunity. We got Henry Chaplin to come and address a 
meeting in our most disaffected area. The farmers ‘played up’ 
splendidly, and sent wagon loads of labourers to the meeting, 
which was a huge success. Mr. Chaplin was a past master at 
speaking to labourers, and he made them a first-rate speech, 
proving that Arch’s opposition was based, not upon any defects 
in the Bill, but simply on the fact that it was introduced by a 
political opponent, and that such opposition was not the duty 
of a representative who had their interests at heart. I have always 
felt that the success of that meeting contributed largely to our 
ultimate victory. 

Philip Bagenal then prepared a first-rate election poster, 
describing all the ‘enormities’ of our opponent, with which we 
plastered the constituency, and which was headed in large 
letters ‘The Complete Exposure of Joseph Arch’. 

Thus the fight of ‘the Lord and the Labourer’ continued 
without a moment’s intermission until the polling day, July 9th. 
Nobody talked of anything else, and things even went so far that 
a great supporter, a clergyman in one of the villages, took as the 
text of his sermon on the Sunday before the election, ‘Who is on 
the Lord’s side?’ 

During the counting of the votes in the Town Hall at King’s 
Lynn, Philip Bagenal whispered to me that he was sure we had 
won. When I asked him the reason for his being so smguine, he 
said, ‘Henry has just opened a Bible and the text which met his 
eye was “ after light afifliction cometh great joy” ’ ! He was right — 
we had won by 20 votes ! A narrow margin, but yet a victory 

asrainst almost superhuman odds. 

^ A. Weston Jarvis, 



Descriptive Articles 
to Cartoons from Vanity Fair 

( These articles are so well xvritten^ and display the characters oj the individuals 
with so much point and fairness, that I do not hesitate to insert them here. 
I have included one or two without the corresponding cartoons.) 

MEN OF THE DAY. No. 704 

W e first hear of him as an Attache and Secretary of 
Legation at Vienna; then at Berlin and Madrid. 
More than twelve years ago he came to London as 
First Secretary of the Portuguese Legation; and under the aus- 
pices of his friend the Chevalier de Souza Correa, the Brazilian 
Minister, he soon became a popular member of Society. Eight 
years ago he had the good fortune to settle with Lord Salisbury 
certedn South African differences between England and Portu- 
gal; and a year later he was appointed on the spot — a most 
unusual matter — Envoy Extraordinary and Minister Plenipo- 
tentiary to the Court of St. James. For two years he was Secretary 
of State for Foreign Affairs in his own country, during which 
time he arranged a dispute between England and Brazil with 
respect to the Island of Trinidad, and was made a G.C.M.G.; 
and last year he was reappointed Minister to England. His in- 
dividu8ility is unmistakable, and as he rather jauntily saunters 
down Bond Street or walks in the Park it is easy to see that the 
troubles of life sit hghtly upon him. He is much Hked by members 
of the Royal Family, and he is a very grateful person in Society. 
He never plays cards, but he occasionally bets a few sovereigns 


on a race; which he invariably loses. He is a good and a very 
popular fellow, who never says an ill-natured thing. He always 
wears white kid gloves, and generally a white flower. He adores a 
good dinner, yet he is so patriotic that he once nearly called out 
half the members of the Turf Club because they chafied him 
about Portugal as an enemy of England. 

He has a great admiration for the ladies. 

(February loth, 1898.) 

MEN OF THE DAY. No. 994 

Count Albert Mensdorff-Pouilly-Dietrichstein — to give him 
the full title by which nobody knows him — ^is a fascinating 
gentleman of exalted pedigree. He is a cousin of the KLing twice 
over. For his grandmother was a sister of the Duchess of Kent 
and of Ernest I, Duke of Saxe-Goburg and Gotha, the father of 
the Prince Consort. He is naturally pleased about it. 

He was educated at home, and subsequently at the Univer- 
sity of Vienna. After a year’s service in the Dragoons, he entered 
the Foreign Office, and was appointed Attach^ to the Austro- 
Hungarian Embassy in Paris. His diplomatic duties next led 
him to London, then removed him to St. Petersburg, and finally 
sent him to London again with the rank of Councillor and First 
Secretary. In 1903 he acted as Minister Plenipotentiary, and in 
1904 he became Ambassador. Being but forty-two, he was, and 
is, the youngest man to hold that rank in Europe. 

Count Albert Mensdorffis an inveterate bachelor. Sometimes 
he seems on the point of effecting a matrimonial alliance, but 
the flutterings of the female heart are never allayed by a pro- 
posal. Match-making mothers speak of him with despair. Yet 
the fact has not prejudiced his position with the sex, amongst 
whom he is vastly admired. He is always to be found at the best 
houses, in the best clubs and the best set. The King Hkes him. 

He is fond of racing, though he is not a great sportsman. He 
admires the beautiful in art, and is a consistent opera-goer. He 


is particular about his dress. He is proud of his pedigree, being, 
as I have said, a cousin of the King. 

Jehu Junior. 

(December 21st, 1905.) 

MEN OF THE DAY. No. 802 

Born at Antony in Cornwall rather more than half a century 
ago, he went to Eton, matriculated at ‘The House’ (where he 
was contemporary with Lord Rosebery), and joined the Cold- 
stream Guards. Twenty years of soldiering improved him into a 
full Colonel; and less than twelve years later he went out to 
South Africa. By that time he had served in New South Wales, 
as Private Secretary to Sir Hercules Robinson; in India, as 
Aide-de-Camp to Lord Lytton; in Afghanistan, as Aide-de- 
Camp to Lord Roberts (where he took part in the famous ride to 
Kandahar and got mentioned) ; in Egypt, as Orderly Officer to 
the Duke of Connaught; and in Burma and elsewhere as 
Mihtary Secretary to Lord Roberts. In South Africa he com- 
manded the 9th Brigade in Lord Methuen’s force for the relief 
of Kimberley; and while at the Modder River he succeeded in 
getting some of his Brigade across the Modder, ^.nd so won the 
battle. Then he led the Guards Brigade in Lord Roberts’s 
wonderful march on Bloemfontein; and the i ith Division to the 
capture of Pretoria, and the advance to Koomati Port; and now 
he is lately returned, crowned with glory, ready to devote his 
services to his country at home. He is a soldier who is not 
ashamed to study his profession; he can ride a horse as well and 
as boldly after hounds as he can after a Boer; and he can shoot 
birds and big game. He is probably the only living man who has 
been walked over by three elephants — after wounding one of 
them. Altogether he is a fine fellow, and one of the handsomest 
men in the British Army. 

He carries his years very lighdy, and he has persuaded one of 
the most beautiful young ladies in London to marry him this 
week. (February 2 1 St, 1901.) 


MEN OF THE DAY. No. i68 
He was born some five and sixty years ago to the inheritance 
of a fair estate in Berwickshire, the rents of which he still enjoys. 
He was educated abroad, and when barely seventeen the Duke 
of Cumberland gave him a commission in the Blues. He soon 
broke upon the world as a fine and dashing horseman; he 
hunted six days a week, and in two years he left the regiment to 
devote himself even more completely to his favourite pastime. 
Established at Dunse, then called the Melton of the North, his 
daring surprised even the select sportsmen there assembled, and 
he became known as one of the hardest and most resolute riders 
to be found among them. After a few years, however, he gave up 
hunting, settled in Paris, and became, what he has since re- 
mained, the absolute arbiter in France of all questions relating 
to horses, and the ruler of men in all matters of racing. None 
could be better fitted for such a position. He delights in horses, 
and never travels without two hacks, of whom one will be 
famous to all posterity as Hhe black’ ; he is a thorough master of 
all the arts of the manage, and is the one remaining professor of 
the haute ecole of equitation. His patience, his temper, the work 
he does and the results he achieves with horses are quite mar- 
vellous. He commands them as a man commands his thoughts; 
he plays with them as a master might play upon an infinitely 
rich and delicate musical instrument; he has the most perfect 
and picture-like park-seat ever seen; and he has never been 
known to be at a loss to deal with the most perverse and 
vicious animals. His manners are of the high old school, stately 
and courteous, and he is known to all the last generation of 
Englishmen and all the present generation of Frenchmen. He 
has never married. (December 22nd, 1877.) 


Often enough of an afternoon are the fortunate privileged to 
see the present ruler of England walking thus in the street of 


London with his friend and familiar. The Private Secretary, up- 
right, fresh and smart, marches erect and alert, as though he 
were the pillar of physical strength of the partnership; the 
Knight of the Garter, leaning lightly on his arm, with shoulders 
still broad and still held back, with eyes no longer keen and feet 
no longer swift, shows like the depositary of surviving brain- 
power in a frame worn and weary. . . . 

Jehu Junior. 

(December loth^ 1879.) 



The Bentincks are, as English nobility goes, of fairly ancient 
standing. Baron Bentinck, the Burgomaster of Maastricht, 
having attached his son Hans to William Prince of Orange as a 
page, the Prince became attached to the young man, and having 
himself become King of England, gave to Hans the old English 
title of Earl of Portland. Thenceforth the family flourished. The 
2nd Earl was made a Duke; the 3rd Duke was twice Prime 
Minister, and having married a daughter of the Duke.of Devon- 
shire took in 1801 the additional surname and arms of Caven- 
dish; the 4th Duke married a daughter of General Scott, and 
with her acquired a vast property; the 5th Duke was eccentric, 
and hid himself away from all sight; and when, over two years 
ago, he died, he was succeeded by his first cousin once removed, 
William John Arthur Charles James CavSndish-Bentinck, the 
6th and present Duke. 

The young Duke, who is the son of the late General Arthur 
Bentinck, is in his twenty-fifth year. He lost his mother, who was 
a daughter of Sir St. Vincent Whitshed, a week after his own 
birth; but his earliest years were watched over by his step- 
mother, the present Lady Bolsover, to whom he is much 
attached. He was sent into the Coldstream Guards, in which he 
remained only a short time, yet enough to become popular 
among his brother officers. He has a taste for shooting and 
fishing, and he races rather, as it would appear, from a sense of 


family duty than from any immoderate devotion to the Turf. 
He rides a very fine hack. He is also fond of driving, and in this 
as in all else he displays a good judgment and a moderation not 
often found in one of his enviable age and position. He is dis- 
creet and prudent in conduct, modest and amiable, and full of 
good sense and promise in every way. In short, he is a charming 
young man altogether, and is likely to do much credit to the 
considerable wealth and the very considerable position which 
he has inherited. 

Jehu Junior. 

(June 3rd, 1882.) 



The eldest son of a baronial parson of very ancient family, he 
was first called George Nathaniel three-and-thirty years ago; 
and the guileless name, borne by many ancestors down to his 
father, is still so well loved of the family that all his three 
brothers have since been invested with it. He went to Eton, and 
there won the Prince Consort’s Prizes for French and Italian, 
captained the Oppidans, and edited The Etonian. He was one of 
the few of his kind who went on to Balliol (as a commoner), 
avoiding the House and the paternal College of Merton; and 
there continued, imder the cherubic influence of Mr. Jowett, to 
improve his mind. He took a First in Moderations; wrote two 
Prize Essays; became President of the Union and of the Can- 
ning Club, at which institutions he learned to speak quite 
sensibly ; and was lowered into the Second Class by the Greats 
Examiners; whereupon the All Souls’ Fellows, knowing him to 
comply with the College Statute as ‘bene natus, bene vestitus et 
mediocriter doctus’, elected him as one of themselves, a member 
of the most comfortable Club in the world. And having thus 
achieved an Oxford reputation which made him known in a 
flippant undergraduate rhyme (which is still extant) as a ‘very 
sooperior purzon’, and being not friendless in high places, he 


presently became Assistant Private Secretary to Lord Salisbury, 
and was encouraged to court defeat in Radical South Derbyshire 
and to compass it by some two thousand votes. This has so far 
been his only public reverse; and flushed thereby he went to 
Southport a few months later and ousted the previous Member 
by nearly five hundred votes. 

He made a brilliant maiden speech, and holding a very high 
opinion of himself, he at once began to elaborate a scheme for 
the Reform of the House of Lords ; from which Chamber he 
would eliminate the ‘piebald sheep’. Yet he is a good Conserva- 
tive, who, having less respect for other persons than himself, 
ventures to pity such politicians as Mr. Labouchere for their 
fatuity; and he soon came to be recognised as a man of desert 
both by the Government which has made him Under-Secretary 
of State for India, and by the Press which has made him 
Minister in Persia, as well as many other things. He is a great 
traveller, who knows a good deal of Persia and India and some- 
thing of the Central Asian Question ; as he has shown in two not 
unimportant books and elsewhere. He has ridden two thou- 
sand, miles in the land of the King of Kings ; he has knowingly 
written much of that country in The Times, and of everything 
else in The Motional Review. He has also ‘done’ Canada, 
America, Japan and China at express speed. He beheves that 
the man who cannot make a name at thirty never will; and 
he really knows a great deal. But he thinks that he knows more 

He is a pleasant-mannered, pink-faced young man who can 
tell ^ story. He has also the knack of success. Women Hke him, 
call him a charming boy, and attribute to him no more of con- 
ceit than mere boyish vanity. He is always well dressed ; he has 
an intellectual forehead; his speeches are fluent if not very im- 
pressive; and his delivery in a commonplace House is quite 
pleasingly aristocratic. He is so promising, so discreet, and so 
knowing that he is like to grow into a great man. 

He is a member of the Carlton, of the Athenaeum, and of the 
Bachelors’. He is a Justice of the Peace and Deputy-Lieutenant 


for Derbyshire. He is a very impressionable, favoured man j and 
therefore he is as yet a bachelor. 

(June i8th, 1892.) 

MEN OF THE DAY. No. 336 


The Milners are an old Yorkshire race, and it was immediate- 
ly after the death of Queen Anne that the head of the family was 
made a Baronet. Sir Frederick, the seventh and present Baronet, 
was born six- and- thirty years ago. He was a younger son, of a 
most tender and amiable yet headstrong disposition, and began 
life by getting sent to school at the early age of six for hammering 
his governess. In due course he was passed on to Eton, where he 
was handsomely birched, and thence went to a private tutor. 
But, on a difference of opinion as to which of the two should sub- 
mit to corporal punishment, he brought his tutorial career to a 
close by throwing his tutor out of window, and went on to 
Christ Church, Oxford. Here, in spite of being addicted to 
games and sports, he took his degree, which was accounted a 
great feat at that College in those days. On leaving College he 
started for a foreign tour with Lord Randolph Churchill, and in 
the course of the tour was attacked by typhoid fever, from which 
he narrowly escaped with life, but through which he was nursed 
in the most devoted manner by Lord Randolph. Coming back 
to England, he dabbled in business and hunting, and succeeded 
so ill in the former as to see much good sport in the latter on 
many bad horses. Then he went to America, travelled in a 
primitive manner through the wilder parts of the country, got aU 
the sport he could find, and made many friends. At one-and- 
thirty, by the unexpected death of his elder brother, he suc- 
ceeded to the Baronetcy, married a charming wife, and again 
addressed himself to business. At this time, disgust at the Radical 
Party drove him into public speech; and when in 1883 n vacan- 
cy occurred at York, he was elected to Parliament as a good 


Sir Frederick is a gentieman, in the full sense of being both 
gentle and manly. He hates cant and despises humbug, and he 
has fastened hke a bulldog on the eminent Chamberlain, whom 
he has badly mauled on more than one occasion. Yet he is the 
most soft-hearted and sympathetic of creatures and, in spite of 
his infirmity of deafness, he is regarded not merely with friend- 
ship but with personal affection by all who know him. He speaks 
the purest Yorkshire EngHsh. 

(June 27th, 1885.) 

MEN OF THE DAY. No. 360 

The grub Httle guesses that he is destined to be a butterfly, 
and probably none of the original family of Higgins ever 
dreamed that some day from amongst them would spring a 
John Palmer Brabazon. But in the year 1852 Major Higgins, 
who had served in the 15th Hussars, inherited from his maternal 
uncle Brabazon Park and seven thousand acres of tenants in 
Mayo, and developed himself into a member of the House of 
Brabazon. Twenty-four years ago a meteor shot across the 
vision of the officers of the i6th Lancers, and before they could 
realise what it was, lo ! ‘Bwab’ had left them and settled down 
to serve the Queen in the Grenadier Guards. This he did with 
such success that in less than a year the subalterns were imitat- 
ing his twice-round cravats, and even Captains did not disdain 
to envy the set of his trousers. 

Gifted as he was with an imperturbable coolness that nothing 
could ruffle, quick at apt repartee, and thoroughly good natiired, 
it was not long before there was only a small band of enemies 
left to talk about ‘swagger’. He came late for parade or forgot 
courts-martial with a graceful nonchalance that could anger no 
Colonel of sense; and all owned that it was but in the nature of 
things that a being so beautiful should be excused from the ordin- 
ary rule of the Service with regard to the hirsute adornments of 
the face. So ‘Bwab’ — bearded and faultlessly dressed — after a 


Riding Master — Polak 


brief campaign in Canada, took his natural place as the leader 
of London Society; and when the paternal acres refused to keep 
him any longer on the surface, he — with the calmness he would 
have evinced in leading a forlorn hope or snubbing an imperti- 
nent Duchess — ^retired to a regiment of which he could never 
remember the number, and concerning which he knew only 
that ‘they wore yellow facings and you got to ’em from Water- 
loo’. However, it is recorded that ‘the fellows’ of the vaguely 
designated regiment did not like ‘Bwab’ ; and he, remarking to 
the Colonel that he did not like ‘the fellows’, left the Army, and 
went off to do a little fighting on his own account as a volunteer 
in Ashantee. Here, he alone, in white kid gloves, took a village ; 
and was rewarded \rith a commission in the loth Hussars. For 
some years he soldiered with zeal, and ruled the fashions of the 
Indian dandies ; returning at intervals to London to show us the 
difference between the real thing and the gods of the Bachelors’ 
Club. He served in the Afghan campaign, was in the march to 
reheve Kandahar, discovered a new drink called Bass’s beer, 
and was mentioned in despatches. 

And now we have him back again for good among us, if not 
quite so handsome, certainly as cool and self-possessed as ever; 
with the same belief in himself, his tie, and his right to be the 
Beau Brummel of the day. He is the most complete and faultless 
dandy of our time, equally exquisite in dress and in manner, yet 
a brave soldier and a good fellow. 

He is three-and-forty years of age, and not at all a woman- 
hater; but he has not yet been quite married. He is very 
methodical, and has never been known to be in time for dinner. 

Jehu Junior. 

(May agth, 1886.) 


There is much good reason to believe that the stuff is only to 
be found in these islands of which the English Gentleman is 

2B 385 

made. Not a wit nor seeking the reputation of one, reading 
litde, talking sparingly, thinking not over much, and leaving all 
the ambition of first principles and original ideas to those free 
lances whom Providence provides to that end, he is yet a man 
who occupies no mean position on the Earth and who so fitly 
fills it as to merit and even to acquire the respect of himself and 
of others. A man of high honour yet not sudden upon a quarrel, 
thoroughly generous yet in no wise impulsive, brave on the 
occasion yet cahn and impassive, painfully neat and precise 
yet no dandy, loving much the field and its hardy sports, 
believing first in his County then in his Country and lastly in 
the Universe, proud of his family, of himself and of his 
animals, and doing thoroughly what he believes to be his 
whole duty to each, he is the only creature of his kind that Civi- 
lisation and the survival of the fittest have left upon the face of 
the Earth. 

Such a man is Sir George Womb well. Born what seems from 
his appearance the incredibly long number of two and forty 
years ago, he wasted the usual time and made more than the 
usual friends at Eton, and then was sent into the 17th Lancers, 
as fine a figure and weight for the saddle as could be found in 
the Army. When the Russian War broke out, he accompanied 
his regiment to the Crimea, became extra Aide-de-Camp to 
Lord Cardigan, and rode at his side in the immortal charge of 
Balaclava, only escaping, after having two horses shot under 
him, by his own nerve and readiness. For his gallantry on this 
occasion he was promoted, but succeeding in 1855 to the title 
and duties of the baronetcy, he sold out and returned to bis 
county of Yorkshire. The Wombwells had been established 
there for many hundreds of years and when the Yorkshire 
Tykes regained the young soldier who had ridden so straight at 
the Russian cannon, they foresaw in him a Sportsman of no 
common mettle, and adopted him at once as ‘our Sir Gearge’, 
the name by which he has ever since been known among them. 
And well has he borne the name. Although he never bets he 
dehghts in horse-racing, he rides to hounds as boldly as any and 


with more judgment than most, he breeds stock, far ms and 
• manages an estate of many thousand acres so that it is a pattern, 
and he is so good a judge of cattle that he is often called upon 
to award the prizes at many agricultural meetings of importance 
in the country. Five years ago, having had a narrow escape 
of drowning in the famous ferry-boat accident, he became master 
of the York and Ainsty hounds, and it is his glory that during 
his mastership they were ‘turned out’ as they had never been 
before. His politics are those of the English Gentleman, and it is 
only surprising that his position as such has never procured his 
return to Parliament for one of the many boroughs in search of a 
man at once safe, honest and decent. 

It is now thirteen years since Sir George made a happy and 
productive marriage, yet he still continues a favoiuite with the 
fair sex. He is too, although living in the North, a lover of 
London and of the Drama, and he has probably as large a circle 
of acquaintances, and among them as many intimate fnends of 
all professions, standings and religions as any man of his age and 
occupations. With all he is a favourite, to all he is cheery, 
hospitable and ready of service, and by all he is looked upon 
less with the respect commonly given to the many than with the 
affection occasionally reserved for the few. 

(January 24th, 1874.) 

MEN OF THE DAY. No. 1126 

Some of General Sir Arthur Paget’s recollections of Welling- 
ton are not of the kind one loves to dwell on, notably perhaps 
the occasion on which a wrathful ‘Head’ — ^afterwards known to 
fame as Archbishop Benson — ^publicly whacked him for stealing 
off to the Ascot Races. He admits frankly that he was not 
specially studious, but his devotion to cricket, ‘rugger , and in- 
deed every available form of sport is doubtless largely responsible 
for the fine constitution that has carried him through many 
hard campaigns. 


He joined the Army before the days of Sandhurst, becoming 
Page to the Queen and then a subaltern in the Scots Guards. . 
Thus commenced a military career which has covered more 
campaigns than he can remember. Within the short space of 
thirteen years — 1869 to 1882 — ^he became Lieut. -Colonel. He 
served through the Ashanti War of 1873, in the Soudan in 1885, 
through the Burmah Campaign of 1887-8, and again in the 
Soudan in 1888-9. He started on the South African War as 
Colonel commanding the Scots Guards, in Methuen’s column, 
and was soon afterwards Major-General in command of the 
20th Brigade. His military career has borne a striking resem- 
blance to that of Lord Methuen, in whose steps he followed at 
regular intervals for many years. 

But although General Paget is above all things a fighting man, 
sport has claimed a large share of his interests. To see him at 
home, surrounded by hundreds of sporting trophies, affords 
ample proof of his proficiency with rifle and shot gun. He was a 
keen athlete, horseman and fisherman for many years. Nowa- 
days, however, the heavy responsibilities of the command of the 
Eastern Division have left little leisure for sporting pursuits, 
though he still manages to find time for a round of golf. He is a 
member of the Guards’, Marlborough and Turf Clubs, and was 
at one time keenly interested in racing matters. 

Physically he is the conventional mihtary man, tall, erect and 
active. In manner, too, he is military: terse and abrupt and 
obviously accustomed to command. The face, with its deep-set, 
keen eyes and firm jaw, suggests strength and self-reliance; a 
splendid fighter’s face, with that faint but constant suggestion 
of self-assertion and pugnacity which marks the man who ioys 
in fighting. 

He only lacks three years of sixty, and his hair and moustache 
are tinged with grey, but he is keen and vigorous still, and f ar 
from losing grip on life. It would be unfair to accuse him of 
genius, but he has grit and pluck and can lead men. 

(July 1908.) 


MEN OF THE DAY. No. 227 



Sir William Alexander Gordon Gumming, Baronet, knowm 
to that half of London who are his friends as ‘Bill’, is a brilliant 
example of the Guardsman. He is not yet thirty-two. He was 
birched into knowledge at Eton, commissioned into the military 
art in the Scots Guards, and launched by himself as a notable 
young man in Society. He holds a proper opinion of himself, he 
is well looking, off-hand in manner when necessary, yet caress- 
ing when required so to be, and believed to be a favourite 
among, the ladies. Withal he has found for himself other fields 
of education than the drawing-rooms of London, and has made 
many dangerous shooting expeditions to remote lands. Being 
altogether a cool hand and a fine shot, he has killed many wild 
beasts of all sorts and sizes. He was in Spain with the Garlists, in 
Algeria, the Soudan and India with rhinoceros, tiger and ele- 
phant, and in Zululand with Lord Chelmsford. He bears him- 
self well and confidently in all situations, and may prove a 
valuable soldier some day. 

Jehu Junior. 

(June 5th, 1880.) 

MEN OF THE DAY. No. 300 

Mr. Coventry is the youngest son of the late Honourable 
Henry Coventry, and first cousin, once removed, to the present 
Lord Coventry. He was born one-and-thirty years ago, and is 
still known as ‘The Baby’. He is a very fine gendeman rider, and 
is much in request by all owners of horses who intend to win. 
The Ring have a wholesome dread of laying the odds against 
any horses he rides. 

(February 23rd, 1 884.) 


MEN OF THE DAY. No. 910 

Though he is but forty-three, he has been a soldier in the 
Sherwood Foresters, he is a very good trainer (Stanley House, 
at Newmarket, being his well-lcnown residence), and he is a 
member of the Turf Club. He is also the fifth son of the late 
Earl of Durham, and, like his eldest brother, the present Lord 
Durham, he is a sportsman. He has won many races, which 
include the big race at Auteuil ; and he has ridden several times 
in the Grand National, in one of which races Savoyard fell at the 
last fence just as his victory seemed to be assured. As a boy, he 
was more skilled in falling off than in sticking on ; but at eigh- 
teen he had become a very good rider to hounds. His great merit 
is the possession of exceedingly fine hands, as he has often shown 
when mounted on horses that always pulled other riders. He 
has also a good eye — so good, indeed, that he would shoot well 
if he had more practice. While he is an excellent judge of a 
horse, he is a keen player at real tennis, and is both devoted to 
dogs and fond of cats ; and, although he is a good trainer, he is 
ready to admit that it is possible to learn something about 
horses even from foreigners. He is rather sanguine about his 
own horses, yet he is very popular with all the Newmarket 
trainers; and outside his profession he is a very welcome fellow 
when he will turn up at a country house. Being a modest man, 
he takes no part in Politics, but his friends know that he can 
express his opinions quite vigorously in very fluent language. 
Nevertheless his manners are quite attractive, he dresses very 
well, and he is a great favourite with the ladies. 

He is as popular as he is notorious for not turning up when he 
is expected. 

(March 17th, 1904.) 



Abercorn, Dowager Duchess of, fish- 
ing reminiscences of, 309. 

Abercom, ist Duke of, as Lord- 
Lieutenant of Ireland, 9; the 
daughters of, 9, 106; reminiscences 
of, 9, 10. 

Aberfeldy, 6. 

Abu Klea, Colonel Burnaby killed 
at, 199. 

Adams, Major Cecil, app. 349. 

Adams, Mr. C. K., 84. 

Adams, Mrs., the school of, 8. 

Adriatic, The, 286. 

Aeroplanes, The northern service of, 

Afghanistan, The Amir of, 266. 

Agricultural Hall, Islington, The, 
horse shows at, 46. 

Agricultural Labourers’ Union, The, 
app. 370. 

Agriculture, The Board of, Mr. Wal- 
ter Long as President of, 181; 
alluded to, app. 351. 

Ailesbury, Maria Marchioness of, 42, 
43; anecdotes of, 44. 

Ailsa, Lord, 25, 317. 

Airey, General, 196. 

Airlie, Countess of, 47, 70. 

Ajmir, 256. 

Alba, Dtike of, 284, 285. 

Albany, Prince Leopold Duke of, 
lunches at Welbeck, 41. 

Alcester, Lord, 264. 

Aldershot, 26, 200. 

Alenson, Bro. G. T., app. 349. 

Alexander, A.R.S.A., Mr. R., 222. 

Alexandra, H.M. Queen, alluded to, 
7, 66, 126; her visit to Welbeck, 43, 

75; Lord Colville and, 109; a Lady 
in Waiting to, in; a Diamond 
Jubilee recollection of, 120; the 
crowning of, 129; her Mistress of 
the Robes, 129, 130; visits Scot- 
land and Ireland, 13 2- 135; a 
Memorial to, 139, 140; and a col- 
hsion in Rotten Row, 144; honours 
the Coaching Clubs, 146; in the 
Ladies’ Mile, 149; the beauty of, 
152; a dance with recalled, 158, 
159; at a fancy dress ball, 159; her 
friendship with Sir Harry Keppel, 
194; her visits to Coombe, 227; 
at Sandringham, 248; visits New- 
stead, 305. 

Alesandria, 256, 263. 

Algeciras, 287. 

Alhambra, The, 287. 

Alletson, Edward (cricketer), 56, 57. 

Alma, Battle of the, 10, 165 k. . 

America, North, 329, app. 382. 

Amerongen, Kaiser William II in- 
terned at, 1 1 ; mentioned, 211. 

Amory, Captain, 57, 237, 238, 239. 

Amport, 17. 

Amsterdam, 285. 

Anderson, Miss Mary, recalled in 
Pygmalion, 155. 

Anglesey, Marchioness of, 153. 

Anglesey, Marquess of, 2 54. 

Angus, 235; stock of, app. 352. 

Armaly, Lord, 143. 

Anne, Queen, the statue of, 120; 
alluded to, app. 383. 

Antwerp, 332. 

Apsley House, 2. 

Arabi, the campaign against, 24. 


Arabia, S.S., 267. 

Arch, Mr. Joseph, his political cam- 
paign against Lord Henry Caven- 
dish-Bentinck, app. 370 etseq. 

Argentine Mission, The, at Welbeck, 
63, 64. 

Argyll, 8th Duke of, the oratory of, 
190, 191. 

Army Reserve, The, called up, 18. 

Amheim, ii. 

Arrol-Jolmston Motor Company, 
The, 314. 

Ascot Races, The, 140, 194, app. 387. 

Ashanti War, The, 210, app. 388. 

Ashbourne, Lord, 192. 

Ashridge, 255. 

Aske, 255. 

Assam planters, a plot to kidnap the 
Viceroy by, 257. 

Assouan, 267. 

Astley, Sir John, Bt., an election 
anecdote of, 288. 

Athens, 286. 

Atholl, Anne Duchess of, the boat- 
carriage of, 3 1 6, 3 1 7. 

Atholl, Duke of^ 5. 

Auersperg, Prince, 278, 283. 

Australia, 268, 329. 

Austria, 247, 276 etseq., 328; duelling 
in, 281 ; the German Emperor and, 
330; the Imperial Lipizzaner stud 
in, app. 362 etseq. 

Austria, The Emperor Franz Joseph 
of, 150, 152, 277, 278, 280; the 
Jubilee of, 282; alluded to, 329, 
330 * 

Austria, The Empress Elizabeth of, 
150, 152; the assassination of, 283; 
in Ireland, 320. 

Auspia, The Empress Elizabeth 
Christiana of, 277. 

Austria, The Archduke Franz Ferdi- 
nand of, 246, 247, 283, 284, 327- 
332, app. 367. 

Austria, The Crown Prince Rudolph 
of, death of, 328. 

Aveland, Lord, 248. 
Aylesbury, The Vale of, 30. 
Ayrshire, 309, app. 350. 
Ayrshire (race-horse), 104, 143. 

Bacchante, H.M.S., 132. 

Bachelors’ Club, The, 159, app. 382, 
app. 385. 

Bacon, Captain Edward, 95. 

Baden-Powell, Lord, and the Mafek- 
ing stamps, 205. 

Bagenal, Mr. Philip (Political Agent) , 
o-PP- 37 i> 372, app. 375. 

Bagot, Lady, 201 n. 

Bailey, Mr. E. Horsman (lawyer), 

30, 31- 

Baillie, Very Rev. A. V. (Dean of 
Windsor), 125. 

Baker, Mr. C. H. Collins (Surveyor 
of the King’s pictures), 84. 

Baker-Carr, Major G., 130 n., 216, 
221,237,265, 266, 286. 

Balaclava, Battle of) 108; Captain 
Nolan at, 196, 197. 

Baldwin, Rt. Hon. Stanley (after 
Earl Baldwin of Bewdley), 185. 

Balfour, Rt. Hon, A. J., 160, 175. 

Balkans, The, 270. 

Ball, Captain Albert, V.C., a reminis- 
cence of, 208, 

BaUinluig, 6. 

Balls Bridge (Dublin), 8. 

Balnagowan Castle, 308. 

Baring, Col. the Hon, Everard, 265. 

Baring, Miss Cecilia, 130. 

Baring, Lady Ulrica, 152. 

Barker, Mr. (coach-builder), 147. 

Barrington, Lady, 46. 

Barrington, The Hon. Sir Eric, 46 
and note. 

Barrington, Viscount, letter from, 
quoted, 169. 

Bartle, F. W. (head-keeper), 242. 

Bartlett, Lady, 155. 

Bassetlaw, 179. 


Batchellor, Captain Sam, 42. 

Battenberg, Admiral Prince Louis of, 

Batthyany, Count Elemir, 280. 

Batthyany, Count Louis, and the 
Kossuth rising (1848), 280. 

Beaconsfield, Earl of, a reminiscence 
of, 43; his correspondence with 
Lady Chesterfield and Lady Brad- 
ford, 44; and Mrs. Arthur Ben- 
tinck’s title, 164; the Duke of 
Portland visits, 164, 165; letters 
from quoted, 166, 167, 168, 169, 
171, 172; and Lord John Manners, 
184; Vanity Fair zxid, app. 379, 380. 

Beasley, Harry (Irish jockey), 319. 

Beatrice, Princess, 1 20. 

Beaufort, 8th Duke of, 146, 248. 

Beaulieu, 31 1. 

Beckett, Mr. William, 178. 

Bective, Countess of, 152. 

Belfast, 192, 193, 320. 

Belgian (War) Fund Committee, 
The, 335’ 

Belgians, T.M. The King and Queen 
of the, visits from, 60, 221; alluded 
to, 327; and the War of 1914, 333. 

Belgium, 332, 333, 335, app. 347. 

Bell, Miss Laura, and Jung Bahadur, 
260 and note. 

Belper, 3rd Lord, 255. 

Belvoir, 225. 

Belvoir Hounds, The, 185. 

Ben (a collie), 219. 

Benares, 263, 266. 

Benson, Archbishop, app. 387. 

Benson, Lady Violet, 153. 

Bentinck, General Arthur, the paren- 
tage of, 5 andnotei the first wife of, 5; 
the second wife of, 6; in India, 6; 
in Dublin, 8; alluded to, app. 380. 

Bentinck, Mrs. Arthxir (n^e Eliza- 
beth Sophia Hawkins- Whitshed), 
alluded to, 5; death of, 5. 

Bentinck, Rev. C. W. F. (1817-1865), 
5, app. 343. 

Bentinck, Lord Charles (1780-1826), 
5> app. 343. 

Bentinck, Lord Charles C., D.S.O. 
6, 32, 33j 204, 207, app. 348. 

Bentinck, Lt.-General Count, 10. 

Bentinck, Countess, 10; a carp- 
fishing incident, 1 1 , 12. 

Bentinck, Lady Edward, a Romney 
portrait of, 42 n., 96, 97. 

Bentinck, Lady Elizabeth (after Lady 
Bath), 310. 

Bentinck, Lord Francis Morven D. C . 

Bentinck, Mr. Frederick C., 96. 

Bentinck, Lord George, Lord 
Beaconsfield’s indebtedness to, 165 
& «., 170, 1 71; his fnendship’with 
Lord John Manners, 184, 185; 
alluded to, app. 370. 

Bentinck, Mr. George C. (‘Big Ben’), 
app. 370- 

Bentinck, Mr. George C. (‘Little 
Ben’), app. 370. 

Bentinck, Count Godard, a remini- 
scence of, ii; mentioned, 21 1, 285. 

Bentinck, Lord Henry (1804-70), 
and Lord Beaconsfield, 170, 171; 
alluded to, 306. 

Bentinck, Lord Henry C., 6, 32, 201 
and note, 202, 239, 244, 249, app. 
344 and note', his political campaign 
in North-West Norfolk, app. 370 
et seq. 

Bentinck, Lady Henry C., 152, 249. 

Bentinck, Gen. Sir Henry, the career 
of, 10. 

Bentinck, Archdeacon W. H., 97. 

Bentinck, Lord William (1774-1839), 
5> 96, 256, app. 370. 

Bentinck, Lord William C., D.S.O., 
6, 32, 145. 244- 

Beresford, Lady Charles, 256. 

Beresford, Lord Charles, and a Rot- 
ten Row bet, I45 j ^4^1 a shooting 
experience with Sir Harry Keppel, 
194; Sir Harry Keppel dines with, 


1945 death of, 195; visits India, 256; 
and a baby rhino, 258, 259; an 
experience with a python, 262; 
alluded to, 263, 264. 

Beresford, Lord Marcus, i6q. 

Beresford, Lord William, V.G., 257 
and note, 263. 

Berkeley Square, 2, 80. 

Berlin, 269, 376. 

Berriedale War Memorial, The, 55. 

Berry Hill (Mansfield), 235. 

Berzencze, the deer forest at, 281. 

Bess of Hardwick, 33; a portrait of, 
87 and note. 

Bestwood, 41, 305. 

Bethnal Green, opening of the 
Peoples’ Palace at, 1 14. 

Bicester Hounds, The, 305. 

Bigge, Captain, 212. 

Bijli Pash (an elephant), 259. 

Birkbeck, Sir Edward, 234. 

Birkin, Mr, Charles, 335. 

Birkin, Miss Lilian, 335. 

Birmingham, 198. 

‘Black Charlie’ (a steward), 287. 

Blandford, Lady, 9 and note. 

Blankney, 323. 

Blubberhouse Moor (Yorkshire), 


Blue Bam partridge beat. The, 239. 

Board, Sir W. J. (Town Clerk of Not- 
tingham), 335. 

Bocchi di Cattaro, The, 286. 

Boehm, Sir Edgar, 223, 224. 

Boer War, The, 24, 109 aM note, 137, 
201 and note, 202, app. 378. 

Bolsover, Lady, 6, 30, 32, 36, app. 
380; the Duke of Portland’s tribute 
tOj 6, 37, 38; and Divine Service 
at Welbeck, 38, 39; welfare interest 
of, 39; and the first ball at Wel- 
beck, 42; and the art works at 
Welbeck, 83; title conferred upon, 
164; as vocalist, 225. 

Bombay, 256, 263, 265, 267. 

Bonn, 2 1 6. 

Boot, Sir Jesse and Lady {see Trent, 
Lord and Lady) . 

Booth, General, 322, 323. 

Boscawen, Col. the Hon. E. (after 
Lord Falmouth), 23, 174. 

Bothal (Northumberland), Foal 
Shows at, app. 350. 

Boughton (Northants) ,311. 

Boulton, Sir Harold, 139. 

Botirget, M. and Mme Paul, a 
reminiscence of, 318. 

Bousfield, Mrs. (a centenarian), 61, 

Bowhill, 31 1. 

Bowlby, Captain, 209, 210, 21 1. 

Boyne, Battle of the, 192, 193. 

Brabazon, Major-Gen. J. P., re- 
miniscences of, 200-203; Vanity 
Fair describes, app. 384, 385. 

Bradford, Earl and Countess of, 44, 

Bradford, Sir Edward, 123 and note', 
a letter from, 1 24. 

Bradman, Mr. and Mrs. Don, 58. 

Braemore, 72, 152, 223, app. 353. 

Bramley, Mr. W. E. Jennings, 93. 

Breadalbane, Earl of, the Black 
Mount deer forest of, 152. 

Bridgewater House, 2. 

Bright, John, 178, 198. 

Brindisi, 256, 263, 264. 

Briscoe, Capt. (S.S. Tanjore), 263, 

Bristol, 8. 

British Museum, The, purchases the 
Hairleian MSS., loi. 

Brocklehurst, Col. John (after Lord 
Ranksborough), and King Ed- 
ward VII’s coronation prepara- 
tions, 129; the horsemanship of, 

Brogyntyn, 250. 

Brook Street, the Guards’ Club in, 23. 

Brooke, Rear-Admiral Basil, 63, 214. 

Brooks, Lieut. Ernest, app. 348. 

Brown, John, 23, 24. 


Browne, Miss Augusta Mary Eliza- 
beth Bolsover, Lady). 

Browne, Very Rev. the Hon. H. M. 
(Dean of Lismore), 6. 

Browne, Mr. Shaw, app. 35 1 . 

Brownlow, Lord and Lady, 178, 255. 

Brussels, 217, 221, 325, 327, 331. 

Buccleuch, Louisa, Duchess of, 
alluded to, 9 and note, 161; a 
Coronation reminiscence of, 129; 
as Mistress of the Robes, 130; and 
King Edward and Queen Alex- 
andra’s visit to Scotland, 133. 

Buccleuch, 5th Duke of, the Duke of 
Portland’s meeting with, 310 and 
note', the estates of, 3 1 1 . 

Buccleuch, 6th Duke of, the London 
home of, 2; a Coronation story of, 
129; lends Dalkeith Palace to King 
Edward and Queen Alexandra, 
133; the Duke of Portland’s meet- 
ing with, 310 and note', the estates 
of, 311. 

Buckingham Palace, entertainments 
at, no; the 1887 Jubilee luncheon 
at, 115; the Diamond Jubilee and, 
120, 12 1 ; Queen Victoria’s funeral 
procession passes, 122; and King 
Edward VII’s Coronation, 128, 
129, 132; President Loubet’s visit 
to, 135, 136; King Ferdinand of 
Bulgaria at, 136; the Kaiser at, 
137; mentioned, 139; Coiirt balls 
at, 154; beinds at, 158. 

Budapesth, 67, 280, 283. 

Buffalo Exhibition, The, President 
McKinley’s assassination at, 72. 

Bulgaria, King Ferdinand of, a 
reminiscence of, 136. 

BuUer, Admiral Sir Henry, 64. 

Bunny Hall, 105. 

Bmgess, Sergeant, and the assault on 
the Kashmir Gate, 265 n. 

Burma, 24. 

Bxirnaby, Colonel Fred, described, 
198; reminiscences of, 199. 

Burton, Mr. A. B., 140. 

Butler, Lady Beatrice, marriage of, 

Butterwick, Mr. Cyril, 39. 

Butterwick, Rev. James, appointed 
Chaplain at Welbeck, 39. 

Byng of Vimy, F.M. The Viscount, 

Byng, Hon. Sir Henry (after Lord 
Strafford), no. 

Cairo, 267. 

Caithness, app. 350, app. 352, 353. 

Calais, 217. 

Calcutta, 256, 263. 

Calendar of Portland Papers, The, loi. 

Calthorpe, Lord, 46, 142, 148. 

Cambridge, H.R.H. The Duke of, 
147, 163, 245, 248, 306. 

Campbell, Colonel John, V.C., 15 n. 

■ Campbell, Captain the Hon. Ronald, 
15 and note, 16; rebukes a presump- 
tion, 29. 

Canada, The Earl of Minto, Gover- 
nor-General of, 42. 

Cannes, 309. 

Canning, George, 89, 165 n. 

Cannock Chase, 13. 

Canonica of Milan, Cavaliere, 224. 

Cap Martin, 284. 

Capri, 287. 

Carbine, 268 and note. 

Carcano, Sehora, an anecdote of her 
daughter, Stella, 64. 

Cardigan, 7th Earl of, and the Bala- 
clava charge, 196, 197; alluded to, 
app. 386. 

Carlisle, Earl of, 9. 

Carlton Club, The, app. 373, app. 


Carlton House Terrace, 76, 267. 

Czirrick, Dr., 271 and note, 272, 276. 

Carson, Sir Edward, 192, 193. 

Cartagena, 287. 

Caruso, 227. 


Cassano’s Band, 327. 

Castlereagh, Lady {see Londonderry, 
Marchioness of). 

Castlereagh, Lord {see Londonderry, 
Marquess of). 

Catalogue of Letters exhibited in the 
Library at Welbeck, 83. 

Catania, R.Y.S., 286, 287. 

Cavan, County, 191. 

Cavendish, name adopted by 3rd 
Duke of Portland, 5 n., app. 380. 
Cavendish, Sir Charles, 33. 
Cavendish, Lord Richard, 96, 237. 
Cavendish Square, 30. 

Cawdor, Earl, 15 «., 19 1. 

Cawnpore, 256, 261. 

Cecil, Lord Edward, 205. 

Cecil, Lord Hugh, 63, 74. 

Central Indian Horse, The, 200. 
Cessnock (Ayrshire), Shows at, app. 
352 - 

Chamberlain, Rt. Hon. Sir Austen, 
186 n. 

Chamberlain, Rt. Hon. Joseph, a 
speech of, 75; alluded to, 178, 188, 
app. 374; a Tariff Reform meeting 
at Welbeck, 183-185; foretells a 
speech of Lord Rosebery, 186. 
Champs filysdes. The, 7. 
Chandos-Pole, Mr. R. W., 176, 313. 
Chaplin, ist Viscount, 46, 170, 183, 

247 , 323 > app’ 375 - 
Charles I, King, relics of, 90-93. 
Charles II, King, a portrait of, 98. 
Charles VI, Emperor, 277. 

Charlotte, Queen (George Ill’s con- 
sort), app. 342. 

Chatteris, The Hon. Sir Evan, 58, 
74. 232, 237. 

Chatsworth, 83, 248, 250, 251, app. 

377 - 

Chelmsford, Viscount, app. 389. 
Chelsea, the flower show at, 284. 
Chesterfield, 192. 

Chesterfield, loth Earl of (Edly), 

Chesterfield, Countess of, Disraeli’s 
correspondence with, 44. 

Chesterfield House, 2. 

China, the destruction of navy of 
(1857), 194; the Taiping rebellion 
in, 194; mentioned, app. 382. 

Chotek, Countess, 283. 

Churchill, Lady Randolph, 159. 

Churchill, Lord Randolph, the poli- 
tical luncheons of, 175; and a 
meeting at Derby, 176; and a pet 
dachshund, 250; an election remi- 
niscence of, app. 371, 372; alluded 
to, app. 383. 

Churchill, Rt. Hon. Winston, 69; his 
military career begins, 201. 

Clarence, H.R.H. The Duke of, 13 1; 
the monument of, 1 39. 

Clarendon, 5th Earl of, 107, 132. 

Clarke, Mr. M. H., app. 349. 

Clarke, Major-Gen. Sir Stanley, 131, 

Clary, Countess Sophie, 64, 276. 

Clary and Aldringen, Prince (Sieg- 
fried), 276. 

Clary Kinsky, Princess, 153, 221 
arid note, 276, 277, 283, 284, 

Clary and Aldringen, Prince (Alphy), 
325. 326, 327, 332. 

Clifton College, 8, 12. 

Clipstone, 231, 232, 239, 240, 242, 
244, 246, app. 351. 

Cloncurry, Lord, 176. 

Clonmell, Earl of, I'jQ and note, 177. 

Clumber, 3, 59, 74, 268. 

Coaching Clubs, 146, 

Coblenz, the American Army H.Q,. 
at, 216. 

Cochrane of Cults, Lord, a hunt 
mishap to, 26. 

Codrington, Lt.-Gen. Sir A. E., an 
anecdote of, 19 and note', alluded to, 
25, 26. 

Coldstream Guards, The, alluded to, 
8. 15. 17. 26, 69, no, 196, 305, 
app- 37 ^. app. 380; Count Ben- 


tinck’s service in, lo; in the 
Crimea, lo; a parade recalled, 17; 
the Duke of Portland joins, 17; a 
march of, recalled, 20; the Regi- 
mental Drag Hounds, 25; at 
Shomcliffe, 30; a brother officer 
recalled, 150, 176. 

Collinson, Rev. C. B., 236. 

Cologne, 215, 216, 217. 

Columbus, Christopher, 285. 

Colville of Culross, Viscount, stories 
of, 109, no, 308; honoured by 
Queen Victoria, 1 1 7. 

Colvin, Sir Sidney, and the art 
treasures at Welbeck, 38. 

Commune, the French, 7. 

Compton Place, 1 9. 

Congreve, General Sir Walter, V.C., 


Congreve, Captain William, 13. 

Connaught, H.R.H. The Duchess 
of, Shannon’s portrait of, 218; at 
the 1903 Durbar, 265. 

Connaught, H.R.H, The Duke of, 
24, 237, app. 378; at the 1903 Dur- 
bar, 265; and Freemasonry, app. 

344, 345- 

Connaught Place, Lord Randolph 
Churchill’s house in, 1 75. 

Constitution Hill, no, 115, 122. 

Cook, Lt.-Colonel R., 209, 

Coombe, 226. 

Cooper, Lady Diana, 153. 

Cooper, Miss Gladys, 155. 

Corbett, Mr. (head forester), 250. 

Corfu, 286. 

Corinth Canal, The, 286, 287. 

Cork, 9th Earl of, 306. 

Corry, Mr. Montague {see Rowton, 

Coventry, 9th Earl of, 46. 

Coventry, Mr. Arthur, app. 389. 

Coventry, The late Hon. Henry, app. 

Cowley, Sir Arthur, 86. 

Cowper, Earl and Countess, 70, 160. 

Craig, Miss Lucy, 37. 

Craigavon, Lord, 192. 

Cranbrook, Eeirl of, 178. 

Crankshaw, Major Eric, 64. 
Crawford and Balcarres, Earl of, 139. 
Cremome, wins the Derby, 158; Sir 
Edgar Boehm’s model of, 224. 
Crewe, 3rd Lord, a reminiscence 
of, 108, 109. 

Crewe, Marquess of, and the Royal 
Victoria Chain, 140; visits Buda- 
pesth, 280. 

Crichton, Lord, 209, 210. 

Crimean War, The, 10, 62, 108, 134, 
150, 163, 173 194, 196, 305, 
app. 386. 

Cripps, Mr. Wilfred, 38. 

Cuckney, 39. 

Culme-Seymour, Admiral Sir Mich- 
ael, Bt.,at Queen Victoria’s funeral, 
122, 123; alluded to, 195, 196. 
Cumberland, app. 345. 

Cumming, Col. Sir William Gordon-, 
Bt., 199, 200, app. 389. 

Curzon of Kedleston, Marchioness, 

74, 75, 153- 

Curzon of Kedleston, Marquess, 74, 

75, 174, 175, 264, 265, 266, 267, 
322, app. 381-383. 

Curzon Street, Lord Beaconsfield’s 
house in, 169. 

Cust, Sir Lionel, 83. 

Custance, Colonel Henry, 234. 
Czernin, Count, 278. 

Daisy (a hack), 143. 

Dalguise, the bridge at, 6 and note. 
Dalhousie, Countess of, 153. 
Dalhousie, Earl of, 235. 

Dalkeith, 133, 31 1. 

Dallas- Yorke, Miss Winifred {see 
Portland, Duchess of). 
Dallas-Yorke, Mr. and Mrs,, 40, 46, 
83, 103. 

Dandies Mashers, 156. 


Danube, The, 280. 

Dardanelles, The, 213, 214. 
Darmstadt, 288. 

Davidson, Archbishop, and a por- 
trait of Laud, 98; his Coronation 
story of Dr. Temple, 128; his 
visits with Mrs. Davidson, 318. 
Davidson of TuUoch Castle, Duncan, 
308 and note, 

Dawson, Brig.-Gen. Sir Douglas, the 
career of, 112 and note', alluded to, 
276; and a duel, 282. 

Dawson, Mat (trainer), 31 1. 

Dawson, Major-Gen. Vesey John, 
1 12, 269, 276. 

Dawson of Penn, Lord, 140. 
D’Abemon, Viscountess, 74, 125, 152, 
158, 219. 

D’Abemon, Viscount, his school-days 
alluded to, 8; mentioned, 74, 125. 
de Baillet Latour, Count Guy, 63, 


de Baillet Latour, Countess (Elisa- 
lex), alluded to, 60, 221, 276, 284; 
the recollections of, 325 et seq. 
de Gallifet, General and Mme, 7, 
de Grey, Lord {see Ripon, Marquess 

d’Hautpoul, Marquis, 1 1 1 . 
de Hegerman, Madame, 47. 
de Laszl6, Mr. Philip, portraits of, 
220-222; mentioned, 327. 
de Moleyns, Hon. Frederick {see 
Ventry, Lord), 
de Pourtal^s, Mme de, 7. 
deReszke, Edouard and Jean, 227. 
de Rothschild of Vienna, Baron, 95. 
de Sagan, Mme., 7. 
de Several, Marquis, anecdotes of, 
66, 67; Lord Rosebery’s tribute to, 
67; mentioned, 74, 190, 207, 327; 
Vanity Fair describes, app. 376, 
377 * 

de Staal, Monsieur, 68. 

Death Duties, The, introduction of, 

Delany, Mrs., recalled at Welbeck, 

33 - 

Delhi, the Durbar at, 153, 264, 265; 
mentioned, 256. 

Denford Vicarage (Thrapstone), 12. 

Denmark, 241. 

Derby, The, 17, 158, 224, 234, 268, 

Derby, Countess of, 107. 

Derbyshire, 1 74, 248. 

Desborough, Lady, Duchess of Port- 
land’s friendship with, 47, 77; 
mentioned, 63, 184; as hostess, 70; 
and Lord Desborough’s swi m at 
Niagara, 73; her early recollections 
of Welbeck, 73-78; Lord Kitchener 
a guest of, 207; a portrait of, 218. 

Desborough, Lord, his house. Tap- 
low Court, 51, 70, 207; the athletic 
successes of, 71 and note-, swims the 
Niagara Falls, 72, 73; hunting in 
the Rockies, 73; the Duke of Port- 
land’s friendship with, 77; his 
Golden Wedding speeches, 77, 78, 
79, 81; alluded to, 184; Lord 
Kitchener a guest of, 207; invites 
the Duke of Portland to a duck- 
shoot, 251, 252; his letter on the 
Whiteslea Bird Sanctuary, 253, 
254; his adventurous experience in 
the Rockies, app. 354 etseq. 

Devonshire, Louise, Duchess of, 63, 

70, 75 , 159, 327- 

Devonshire, 7th Duke of, 19; Ghats- 
worth alluded to, 83. 

Devonshire, 8th Duke of, 42, 63, 159, 
178, 186-190, 247, 248, 251, 327, 
app. 374. 

Devonshire, 9th Duke of, 25 1 . 

Devonshire Club, The, 23. 

Devonshire House, 2, 115, 159, 160. 

Deym, Count and Countess, 68. 

Disraeli, Major Coningsby, 167. 

Dobson, Mrs., 335. 

de Villavieja, The Senora, a remini- 
scence of, 59. 


Donaldson, Sir George, gr, 93. 
DonovaUf 104, 143. 

Dorchester House, i, 2. 

Douglas, Lord Francis, his death on 
the Matterhorn, 223. 

Dover, 136. 

Dowson, Mrs. F. E., 335. 

Dragoon Guards, The 7th, 6. 
Drescher’s Band, 50, 158. 

Dresden, 276. 

Druce Case, The, 31. 

Drumlanrig, 3 1 o, 3 1 1 , 

Drummond, Maj.-Gen. and Mrs. 
Laurence, 69. 

Dublin, alluded to, 8, 9, 10, 319, 320, 
King Edward and Qjieen Alex- 
andra’s visit to, 134, 135; the Kil- 
dare Street Club, 177. 

Dublin Castle, the Courts at, g. 
Dudley, Georgina, Countess of, 152. 
Dudley, 2nd Earl of (Lord-Lieu- 
tenant of Ireland), 135, 185, 238, 
239, 242, 243. 

Dudley House, 152. 

Dufferin, Marquess of, 24. 

Duke of Portland Lodge (Masonic), 
The, app. 344 n. 

Duleep Singh, The Maharajah, 234. 
Dundalk, 320. 

Dungeness, 20. 

Dunkeld, 5, 6, 47, 317. 

Dunrobin, 308. 

Durbungah, 263. 

Durbungah, The Maharajah of, 
262, 263. 

Durham, 2nd Earl of, app. 390. 
Durham, 3rdEarlof, 256,1309,0//. 390. 
Durnford, The Rev. Dr., 12, 165. 
Dyott, Colonel R., 13. 

Earle, Sir Lionel, 139. 

Eason, D.C.M., Corporal, 210. 
Eastbourne, 18. 

Eaton, 255. 

Eden, Rt. Hon. Anthony, 153. 

Eden, Sir William and Lady, 153. 

Edgcumbe, Lady AJbertha, 1 74. 

Edinburgh, King Edward and ^ueen 
Alexandra’s visit to, 132, 133, 134; 
the Lord Provost of, 133, 134. 

Edinburgh, T.R.H. The Duke and 
Duchess of, 226. 

Edward VII, H.M. King, aUuded 
to, 12 n.; at a Welbeck ball, 
42; and the Marquis de Soveral, 
66; his loss to society, 67; a shoot- 
ing party at Welbeck, 75; tribute 
to the kindness of, 106; Lord 
Crewe at a Lev^e of, 108; a hunt 
reminiscence of, no; and the Earl 
of Strafford, 1 10; a Groom in Wait- 
ing to, in; the Master of the 
Household to, 112; mentioned, 
117, 126; at death and funeral of 
Queen Victoria, 121, 122; his 
Coronation alluded to, 123 and 
note’, his anxiety about Queen 
Victoria’s health, 125; a dream of 
the Coronation of, 126, 127; re- 
hearsals for Coronation of, 127, 
128; reminiscences of Coronation 
of, 128 et seq.’, his death alluded to, 
130; his India tour, 130; the equer- 
ries of, 1 30- 1 32; visits Scotland and 
Ireland, 132-135; and King Ferdi- 
nand of Bulgaria, 136; and a 
collision in Rotten Row, 144; 
honours the F.H.D.C., 146; at a 
fancy dress ball, 159; and Sir 
Walter Ghbey, 161; Sir Harry 
Keppel’s friendship with, 194; 
and General Brabazon’s commis- 
sion, 201; as a game shot, 246; at 
Sandringham, 248; at the Emperor 
of Austria’s Jubilee, 282; and Lord 
Fife, 307; and early motoring, 316; 
as Freemason, app. 347. 

Edward VIII, H.M. King, and the 
Gardeners’ Benevolent Institution, 
17; visits Welbeck 61, 63, 64; men- 
tioned, 141. 


Egginton, Mr. W. (artist), 223. 

Egypt, 267. 

Ehrenbrestein, Fortress of, 216. 

Eildon, 31 1. 

El Teb, Colonel Burnaby at, 199. 

Elba, 287. 

Elbe, The, 276. 

Eldon, Lord, 63, 64, 232. 

Elephanta, Isle of, 256. 

El^n House (Dublin), 8. 

Elizabeth, H.M. Queen, 5 ; opens the 
Orthopaedic Hospital, 49, 62. 

Ellerslie House (Nottingham), pur- 
chased for a nursing home, 49. 

Ellesmere, Earl of, the London house 
of, 2. 

Ellis, Colonel Arthur (after Sir), 42, 
130, 131. 

Elphinstone, Lord, 232, 237. 

Elwes, Mr. Gervase, 226. 

Enkhuisen (Holland), 285. 

EnniskiUen,'Earlof, 232, 244, 305,306. 

Epsom, the races at, 16. 

Erne, Earl of, 209. 

Erskine, Hon. Elizabeth, 5. 

Erskine, Lord, 5. 

Erskine, Lord Chancellor (Thomas), 
5 and note. 

Essex, the Epping division of, 17. 

Essex, Earl and Coxmtess of, 69. 

Eton, the Duke of Portland at, 8, 12; 
Dr. Hornby and Dr. ‘Judy’ 
Durnford at, 12; the Newcastle 
Scholarship at, 71; a master men- 
tioned, 165; mentioned, 269, app. 
Sl^. app. 381, app. 386. 

Eugenie, The Empress, reminiscences 
of, 284, 285. 

Eversley, Charles Kingsley at, 7. 

Ewart, Sir Henry, his telegram an- 
noxmcing the death of Queen 
Victoria, 121; and a Coronation 
dream, 127. 

Faithfull, Mr., 12. 

Falmouth, 6th Viscount, 23. 

Fane, Lady Augusta, 28. 

Farquhar, Viscount, 112. 

Farren, Nellie, 156. 

Feisal, The Amir (later Fling of 
Iraq), his visit to Welbeck, 52. 
Fenians, The, outbreak recalled, 8; 

Sir Hugh Rose and, 8, 9. 

Ferguson, Sir James (Governor of 
Bombay), 134, 256. 

Fernie, Torn (golfer), 55, 56. 

Femie, Willie (golfer), reminiscences 
of, 55 and note. 

Festetics, Prince and Princess, 281. 
Fielding, General Sir Geoffrey, 196, 


Fielding (1827-1904), General the 
Hon. Sir Percy, iq6. 

Fife, 26. 

Fife, Duke of, 307. 

Fife, 5th Earl, anecdotes of, 307. 

Fifty Years and More of Sport in Scot- 
land, cited, 55; alluded to, 60, 69, 

FitzGerald, Major Lord Desmond, 

Fitzwilliam Hounds, The, 25. 
Fleischel, 47. 

FoUett, Colonel, 25, 26. 

Follett, Lady Julia, 25; in a hunt 
incident, 26. 

Fontainebleau, 12. 

Forbes, Lady, 152. 

Foreign Office, The, parties at, 161. 
Forfar, 176. 

Foster, Major, 13. 

Fourth Party, The, the forming of, 
175 - 

Fox, Charles James, a residence of, 
39 - 

France, 67. 

France, Anatole, 47. 

Franco-German war. The, 6, 7. 

Frant Green, 8. 

Fraser, Colonel Keith, 145. 

Frears, Mr. J. R., app. 349. 

Freemasonry, the Duke of Portland’s 
career in, app. 344 et seq.‘, Grand 
Masters of, app. 344 and note, app. 
345, app. 347; Lord Kitchener and, 
app. 345; the Royal Masonic Bene- 
volent Institution, app. 345; Foun- 
dation stones laid by the Duke of 
Portland, a^. 346; the Duke of 
Portland’s insignia, app. 346; an 
address by the Duke of Portland, 
^■PP- 347> the War of 1914 and, 
°-PP- 347> 34:^1 the new Masonic 
Hall at Nottingham, app. 348, 


Fremantle, Colonel, 27. 

Frewen, Mrs. Moreton, 69. 

Fripp, Sir Alfred, 328. 

Frogmore Chapel, 123. 

Frognal (Ascot), 116. 

Gaiety Theatre, The, 156. 

Galway, Viscountess, and the Not- 
tinghamshire, Red Gross, 206 

Galway, 8th Viscount, app. 349. 

Galway, 7th Viscount, the Hounds 
of, 14. 

Gardenejrs’ Benevolent Institution, 
The, 17. 

Garry, The River, 312. 

Gathorne-Hardy, Rt. Hon. G. (after 
Lord Cranbrook), 40. 

Gedling Memorial Hall, app. 346. 

Geneva, 339. 

Genoa, 287. 

George, Rt. Hon. D. Lloyd, his 
Limehouse speeches alluded to, i; 
his War Memories criticised, 213. 

George, Sir Ernest, his restorations 
at Welbeck, 54, 97. 

George V, H.M. I^g, dines at 3 
Grosvenor Square, 60; opens new 
buildings atNottinghamUniversity 
College, 61 ; his visit to Welbeck re- 
called, 74; a Groom in Waiting to, 
in; his Coronation alluded to. 

129; as midshipman, 132; and the 
Qjieen’s Nurses, 139; and the 
designs for Qjieen Alexandra’s 
memorial, 140; death ofj 140, 141; 
alluded to, 212, 265; his visit to 
Bluehnbach (Salzburg), 331. 

George VI, H.M. King, opens the 
Orthopaedic Hospital at Harlow 
Wood, 49, 62; alluded to, 14 1. 

Gerard, Lady, 42, 153. 

Gerard, Lord, 42. 

Germany, 59, 67, 328, 330. 

Gibraltar, 287. 

Gilbert, Sir Alfred, 139, 140, 223. 

Gilbey, Sir Walter, 160, 161. 

Gilmour, Sir John, 46. 

Gilmour, Rt. Hon. Sir John, 46. 

Girdlestone, Mr. (British Resident at 
Katmandu), and his dog, 257. 

Gladstone, Mrs., 170, 180. 

Gladstone, Mr. John, 1 76. 

Gladstone, Rt. Hon. W. E., fall of 
the Government of, 106; a plan to 
bait, 175; a meeting with recalled, 
176; an anecdote of, 176, 177; Sir 
F. Milner’s letters to, 179, 180; his 
last Government alluded to, 180; 
his visits to Mrs. Thistlethwayte 
mentioned, 261; and Parnell, app. 

Glazebrook, Miss, 39. 

Glazebrook, Sir R. T., 39. 

Gleichen, Goxmt, 269, 276. 

Glen Urquhart, and a loch monster, 


Gloucester House, 147. 

Godley, General Sir Alexander, 205. 

Goldie, Sir George, 184. 

Goodlake, General, V.G., 305. 

Goodwood Races, 309. 

Gordon, Lady Ethdreda, 25. 

Gordon-Cumming, RouaJeyn, 199. 

Gordon-Lennox, Lady Algernon, 
152, 159, 225, 287. 

Gordon-Leimox, Lord Algernon, 
144, 156,162, 280. 



Gorst, Sir John, 175. 

Gosford, Earl of, 96. 

Gottlieb’s Band, 50, 158. 

Goulding, Mr. R. W., Catalogue of the 
Pictures at Welbeck, etc., 34 84, 
92; appointed Librarian at Wel- 
beck, 83; The Times quoted on, 84; 
a reminiscence of, 85; death of, 85, 
86; his arrangement of correspon- 
dence at Welbeck, i o i . 

Graham, Lady Cynthia, 152. 

Graham, Captain Harry, Ruthless 
Rhymes, etc., alluded to, 69. 

Graham, Lady Helen, 63. 

Graham, Sir Henry, marriage of, 40; 
mentioned, 46 and note, 69; music 
compositions of, 69, 70; blindness 
of, 70. 

Graham, Lady Margaret, 46. 

Graham, Sir Ronald, 40, 69, 140, 

Granby, Marquess of, 178, app. 345. 

Grand National, The, 278, app. 390. 

Grant, Sir Albert, 158. 

Great Northern Railway Company, 
The, 109. 

Greece, Prince Nicolas of, 237. 

Greenwood, Wilfred, 256. 

Gregory, Mr. T. S. Pearson, 236. 

Grenfell, The Hon. Gerald William, 
scholarship successes of, 71. 

Grenfell, Hon. Ivo, 252, 253. 

Grenfell, The Hon. Julian Henry 
Francis, his poem Into Battle, 71; 
as sportsman, 72. 

Grenfell, Mr. and Mrs. W. H. {see 
Desborough, Lord eind Lady). 

Grey, General, 1 1 1 and note. 

Grey, Miss Mary {see Minto, Countess 

Grey of Falloden, Lord, 253. 

Grieg, Edvard and Mme., 47. 

Grierson, General, tragic death of, 59. 

Grieve, Mr. John Mackenzie, 143; 
describes, app. 379. 

Grosvenor Crescent, 40. 

Grosvenor House, i. 

Grosvenor Place (Number 13), 30, 32, 
39, 226. 

Grosvenor Square, the Duke of Port- 
land’s house in, 2, 50, 60, 161, 220, 
323; Lord Galthorpe’s house in, 
i48;Mrs. Thistlethwayte’shousein, 

Grosvenor Street, 227. 

Guadalquivir, The, 287. 

Guards’ Club, The, Colonel Wigram 
at, 15; the site of, 22; removal of, 
23; alluded to, 28. 

Gurney, Captain, 2 1 1 . 

Gypsy Jack (a horse-dealer), 198. 

H , Lord, faints at the Diamond 

Jubilee, 12 1. 

Haddon, Lord, 225. 

Haig, Countess, 139. 

Haig, Earl, 133. 

Haig, Nigel (cricketer), 57. 

Hall, Mr. Frank, 237. 

Hall, Colonel Julian, 15, 25. 

Hall, Mr. W. W., 238. 

Hambleden, Viscountess, 70. 

Hamilton, Duchess of, a bearer of 
Queen Mary’s canopy, 129. 

Hamilton, Lady Claud, 41. 

Hamiltpn, Lady Katherine, the mar- 
riage of, 106. 

Hampton Court, 105, 108. 

Harcourt, Colonel, 32 1 . 

Harcourt, Sir William Vernon-, 
Death Duties introduced by, 180; 
alluded to, 321. 

HarcoTirt House, 30, 33, 37, 38. 

Hardinge of Penshurst, Lord, 140. 

Hardwicke, Lord, an after-dinner 
song of, 145. 

Harewood, Florence, Countess of, 44. 

Harlech, Lord, an experience re- 
called, 20; alluded to, 232, 250. 

Harlow Wood (Nottinghamshire), 
the Orthopaedic Hospital at, 46, 
48-50, 63. 


Haxrach, Countess, 279. 

Harris, Mr. F. B. (Clerk of the 
Peace), 336. 

Harrington, Marquess and Marchion- 
ess of {see Devonshire, Duke and 
Duchess of). 

Hartnell, Rev. C., 8, 

Hartopp, Sir Charles, Bt., 159. 

Harvey (a keeper), Joe, 244, 245. 

Hastings, Elizabeth, Lady, 130. 

Hastings, 20th Lord, 254. 

Hatfield, 75, 182. 

Hatherton, Lady, 13. 

Hatherton, Lord, 13; a letter quoted, 

Hatherton, ist Lord, app. 343. 

Havers, Arthur (golfer), 60. 

Hawkins, Sir Henry, an anecdote of, 
321, 322. 

Hawlrins-Whitshed, Elizabeth Sophia 
{see Benrinck, Mrs. Arthur). 

Hawkins- Whitshed, Bt., Sir St. Vin- 
cent, 5. 

Hayman, R.W.Bro. Canon H. T., 
app. 344, 345, app. 347 and note, 
app. 349. 

Headfort, Marquess of, 319. 

Headington, M^srs., 26. 

Helmsdale, The, salmon fishing in, 
44, 31 1, 312; a motor run from, 

Henry VIII, King, a relic of, 90. 

Herbert, Lord, 254. 

Herkomer, Mr. Herman, 222. 

Herkoma:, Sir Hubert, 222. 

Herries, Lord, 184. 

Hertford House, i. 

Hesse, H.R.H. The Grand Duke of, 
Qjieen Victoria’s visit to, 288. 

Hesse, H.R.H. Prince Louis of, the 
Duke of Portland visits, 18, 19. 

Hesse, H.R.H. Princess Alice of, 19. 

Hesse, H.R.H. Princess Elizabeth of, 
19 and note. 

Hewett, Sir Stanley, 140. 

Hickling Broad, 251, 252. 

Hicks-Beach, Sir Michael, remini- 
scences of, 1 18, 1 19. 

Higgins, Mr. Henry, a story of, 227. 

Higginson, General Sir George, 45; 
death of, 46. 

High Wycombe, 164, 

Hill, Miss, 336. 

Bfill Street (Number 17), 8q, 98. 

Hillingdon, Lord, 97. 

Hindolvestone Wood, 254. 

Hirsch, Baron, 230, 231. 

Hirsch, Leopold, 234. 

Historical Manuscripts Commission, 
The, The Calendar of Portland Papers 
issued by, 10 1. 

Hohenberg, Duchess of, 283, 284, 


Holford, Mr., and Dorchester House, 

Holford, Major Sir G., 239. 

Holkham, 249, 254. 

Holland, visits to recalled, 10, ii, 
285; the German Emperor’s flight 
into, 1 1 ; the family of Lord Reay 
and, 188; alluded to, 217. 

Holland House, 2. 

Hollins, Willie, 235, 236, 238, 239. 

Holy Alliance (1812), The, 329. 

Holyrood Palace, 134. 

Home Rule Bills, The, i, 178, 190, 

19 L i93j o-PP’ 374- 

Hongkong, 329. 

Hope, Lord Charles M., 269. 

Hope, Lord John, 269. 

Hornby, Rev. Dr., 12. 

Horse Breeding, The Royal Com- 
mission on, 46. 

Houghton, Lady, 153. 

House of Commons, The, Colonel 
Mark Lockwood in, 17; alluded to, 
107, 195, 288; the Death Duties 
opposed in, 180; Lord Salisbury 
and, 187; the speeches in, 190. 

House of Lords, The, 113, 182, 187, 
188, 190, 191, app. 382. 

Howitt, Bro. C. E., app. 349. 


HradCany (Prague), The, 283. Inland Revenue Department, The, 

Hungary, visits to, 67, 283; Baron 155, 180. 

Hirsch’s parties in, 230, 231; game Invergarry Castle, 308. 

remises in, 239; game shooting Invergarry Hotel, The, and the Loch 

in, 247; duelling in, 281; and Ness monster, 312. 

Russia, 329. Inverness, 308, 3 14, 3 1 5, 3 1 6- 

Hughenden, visits to, 44, 164, 165, Ireland, the Home Rule Bill for, i; 

167,170. alluded to, 16, 325. 

Hunt, Rt. Hon. Ward, 234. Ireland, Northern, a ball in, 10; a 

Hunt Hill grouse moor, 235. Belfast meeting, 192, 193. 

Hunter, Andrew (chauffeur), 314. Irish Rebellion (The Great War), 
Huntingfield, Lord, 233. The, 8. 

Hyde Park, 62, 1 15, 122, 142 et seq. Irvine of Pitlochry, Dr., 47. 

Hyde Park Gardens (Number 13), 38 Island Bridge Beirracks (Dublin), 
and note. The, 8. 

Italian Riviera, The, 287. 

Italy, 329, app. 367. 

Idle, The, 241. Italy, T.M. The King and Queen of, 

IlbertBiU (India), The, 256. their visit to London, 138, 139. 

Ilchester, Earl of, the London house Iveagh, Lady, 319. 

of, 2. I Zingari Cricket Club, The, 107. 

Ilsemann, Captain von, the Mar- 
quess of Titchfield’s second meet- 
ing with, 21 1, 212. Jack, R.A., Mr. Richard, 222, app. 

India, Lt.-Gen. Arthur Bentinck in, 346. 

6; the Mutiny, 8, 9, 265; Lord Jackson, The Rt. Hon. W. L., app. 
Dufferin Viceroy of, 24; Lord 344, 345. 

Minto Viceroy of, 42; visitors to Jaipxir, 256. 

Welbeck from, 45; Lord William Jal^e, Carl, 243. 

Bentinck Gov.-Gen. of, 96, app. 370; James, Rev. G. C., the Eton house of, 
Lady Beatrice Pole-Carew’s visit to, 12. 

154; Lord Roberts’s campaign in, James, Captain E. C., app. 348. 

201; shooting in, 228, 244; a visit James of Hereford, Lord, at a Home 
to, 256 et seq.\ the Durbar in, 264, Rule Meeting, 178, 179; his story 
265; the assault on the Kashmir ofthe Duke ofDevonsIdre, 189. 
Gate recalled, 265 and note’, the Japan, 330, app. 382. 

Amir of Afghanistan, 266; a re- Japan, H.I.H. Prince Chichibu of, 
collection of Lord Reading, 267, visits Langwell, 69. 

268; Lord Linlithgow and, 268; Jarvis, Colonel Sir Weston, 206; his 
the Sikh war, 266; alluded to, 329; accoimt of Lord Henry Bentinck’s 

Lord Wellesley Gov.-Gen. of, app. political campaign in Norfolk, app. 

, 342; mentioned, app. 382. 370 et seq. 

Indian Mutiny, The, Sir Hugh Rose Jerome, Miss Jennie (after Lady Ran- 
, in, 8, 9; Sir Robert Low in, 265. dolph Churchill), 69. 

Ingestre Hall, 14. Jervis, Miss St. Vincent, 14. 

Inkerman, Battle of, lo, 165 n. | Jervoise, Bt., Sir A. Clarke, 25. 


John Company, 256. 

John o’ Groats, the road to, 316. 
Jones, Mr. Bowen, 46. 

Jubilee (1887), Queen Victoria’s, 

Jubilee (1897), Queen Victoria’s 
Diamond, 115, 117, 119, 120, 

Jung, Sir Salar, 45. 

Jung Bahadur, a story of, 260. 

Kandahar, 24, 201, 262. 

Kirolyi, Count, death alluded to, 68; 
mentioned, 152, 280. 

Kdrolyi, Countess, 67, 68, 152, 280, 

Kars, Siege of, 130. 

Kashmir Gate (Delhi), the assault 
on, 265. 

Kaunitz, Count, 320. 

Kenmare, Countess of, 47, 74, 80, 81, 
139 - 

Kenmare, Earl of, 74, 80, 81. 

Kensington Gardens, 146. 

Kent, 322. 

Kent, T.R.H. The Duke and Duchess 
of, 141. 

Kenyon-Slaney, Lady Mabel, 1 67. 

Kep (a dog), app. 353. 

Keppel, Sir Derek and Lady, 130. 

Keppel, Sir Harry, 132, 194, 195. 

Keszthely, 281. 

Keyes, Admiral Sir Roger, 61. 

Keyser, R.W.Bro. G. E., app. 350. 

Khartoum, 200. 

Khiva, Burnaby’s ride to, 199. 

King’s Lynn, 33. 

Kingsley, Charles, a reminiscence of, 

7, 8. 

Kingston, 255. 

Kmgstown (Ireland), 136. 

Kiimaird, The Master of, 237. 

Kinnaird House, the Duke of Port- 
land’s birth at, 5, 6, 47; shooting 
memories at, 6. 

Kinsky, Count Charles, 68, 157, 158, 
278, 320. 

Kinsky, Count Ferdinand, 46, 150; 
his description of the Imperial 
Stud, Lipizza, app. 361 et seq.; 
orders the removal of the Lipiz- 
zaner Stud, app. 367; death of, 
alluded to, app. 368. 

Kinsky, Prince and Princess, and 
their sons, 278, 279, 283, 327. 

Kirkby, 39. 

Kirkc^dy, Andrew (golfer), 242. 

Kitchener, Earl, 74, 75; at Hatfield, 
182, 183; a war prediction of, 207; 
and Freemasonry, app. 345; at a 
Welbeck Show, app. 350. 

KnoUys, Hon. Charlotte, 13 1. 

Knollys, Viscount,, 131. 

KnoUys, General Sir WiUiam, 13 1. 

Knowsley, 107, 

Knutsford, Viscount, 139. 

Kofi Karikari, The Ashanti King, 
the state umbreUa of, 20 1 . 

Konopischt, 283; the Pact of, 330. 

Kossuth Rising (1848), The, 280. 

Kruger, President, 137. 

Labouch^re, Mr. Henry, app. 382. 
Ladies’ Mile (Hyde Park), The, 149. 
Laeken, 60. 

Lairg, 308. 

Lambart, Miss Amy, 16. 

Lambert, Mr., 335. 

Lambton, The Hon. George, 156, 

237. 390- 

Lancashire, 107, 189. 

Landseer, Sir Edwin, a pictme by, 

Lang, Cosmo, Archbishop of Canter- 
bury, 74. 

Langford, 4th Lord, 320, 321. 
Langholm Lodge, 31 1. 

Langtry, Mrs., 154, 155. 

Langwell, aUuded to, 37, 51, 52, 60, 
73, 213, 223, 240, 241, 314; Prince 


Chichibu visits, 69; Julian Des- 
borough at, 72; Lord Charles 
Beresford at, 195; Lord Kitchener 
at, 207; Mr. Philip de Ldszld at, 
220, 221; Prince Auersperg’s visits 
to, 278; the Duke of Portland’s 
first motor car at, 314, 315; 
Countess de Baillet Latour alludes 
to, 326; stock breeding and shows 
at, app. 352, 353. 

Lansdowne, Marchioness of, 9 and note. 

Lansdowne House, 2. 

Larisch, Count, 46, 93, 278, 320. 

Lathom, Earl of, 106, 107, 122. 

Lausanne, 339, 340. 

Lawrence, Sir Thomas, P.R.A., 218. 

Lawrence, Colonel T. E., 52. 

Lear, Edward, Book of Pfonsense cited, 

Legge, Capt. the Hon. Sir Henry, a 
shooting reminiscence of, 16; al- 
luded to, 25, no, 239. 

Legros, M. Alphonse, 223. 

Leicester, Countess of, 249. 

Leicester, Earl of, alluded to, 248, 
254; his present of wine to the 
Prince of Wales, 249. 

Leicestershire, 32 1 . 

Leigh, Mr. E. C. Austen, 166 and note. 

Leigh, Mr. G., app. 349. 

Leigh of Stoneleigh Abbey, Lord, 
death of son of, app. 360, 361. 

Leinster, Duchess of, 153. 

Leitch, Miss (golfer), 55. 

Lemaitre, Jules, 47. 

Lembach (painter), 47. 

Leslie, Fred, 156. 

Leslie of Glaslough, Lady, 69. 

Leslie-MelviUe, Mrs., 87. 

Letchworth, W.Bro. E., app. 345. 

Liechtenstein, Prince Louis, 320. 

Liechtenstein, Prince Rudolph, 140, 
150, 277, 278. 

LifeofDisraeli^ quoted, 170 n. 

liffey. The river, 8. 

Limehouse, i. 

Lincoln (and Lincolnshire), 55, 288. 

Lindsay, The Hon. Mrs. Charles, 6, 

Lindsay, Col. H. H., 239. 

Linlithgow, Marchioness of, 63, 

Linlithgow, ist Marquess of, 268. 

Linlithgow, 2nd Marquess of, 63, 
268, 269. 

Lipizza (and Lipizzaner horses), al- 
luded to, 149, 150, 277, 320; 
the Imperial Stud descrilaed, app. 
362 et seq.\ on imported stallions 
and mares from, app. 366, 367; the 
Stud after 1918, app. 367-369. 

Lisbon, the Academy of, 58. 

Lister-Kaye, Sir John, and the 
widow of, 68, 

Littlecote House, the legend of, 234. 

Liverpool Street Station, 148- 

Lobkowitz, Prince, 283. 

Loch Braddan, 317. 

Loch Ness, an earlier monster in, 
3i2> 313- 

Loch Oich, 312. 

Lockwood, Colonel Mark (after Lord 
Lamboume) , characteristics and 
interests of, 17. 

Loewenstein, Prince, 237, 327. 

London, some great houses in, i; 
aUudedto, 10, 137, 256, 313, 326; 
the Lord Mayor of, 137, 139; King 
and Qjieen of Italy’s visit to, 138, 
139; life, and functions, in, 142 et 
seq.; the Austro-Hungarian em- 
bassy in, 278, 281, 325; the R.H.S. 
flower shows in, 284, 286. 

London Museum, The, 2. 

London Nottingham Masonic Lodge 
(No. 5133), The, app. 344. 

Londonderry, Marchioness of, 14, 
42, 149, 153, 160. 

Londonderry, Marquess of, 42, 160, 
192, 250, 320. 

Londonderry House, 2, 160. 

Long, Mr. Walter, 1 81, 192. 

Lonsdale, Countess of (after Mar- 
chioness ofRipon), 42, 153- 
Lonsdale, Earl of, 142, 184, 248. 

Lord George Bentinck: a political bio- 
graphy, 167. 

Lome, Marquess of, a Jubilee nushap 

to, H 4 - . V,. 

Loubet, President, receives King 
Edward VII in Paris, 135; visits 

Buckingham Palace, 135, i 3 ®* 
Louth, 83, 85. 

Lovat, Lady, 64, 74 - 

Lovat, 13th Lord, and a link with 

M'Graine, Billy (a horse-dealer) 
305, 306. 

McELinley, President, the assassina- 
tion of, 72. 

Maclaren, Mr. Neil, 88. 

McMahon, Marshal, 7. 

McNeiU, Colonel Sir John, V.G., 122. 
Mace, Jem, a letter from, app. 372. 
Madrid, 284. 

Mafeking, 204-207. 

Majorca, 287. 

Malabar Point, the Governor of 
Bombay’s official residence at, 256, 
2 66. 

Lo^ Lort ^ at Wdbeck. Malcolm of Poltallooh, Lady. 155. 

• ripathof 6s; mentioned, 74> 3^75 Malines, 332. 
livat’s Scouts mentioned, 214; the M^et, Sm Mward, and a speech of 
fi:eshootmgof,23..a3.,^40,=47. j 

Low, General Sir Robert, and the 

Indian Mutiny, 265. 

Lowther, Rt. Hon. James, 1 78. 

Loyd, Miss Jones, her marriage to 

Lord Wantage, 165. 1 kk ho 

aSlvt ’.96 1 

Manchester, Louise Duchess of, 
alluded to, 42. 

Manchester, Gonsuelo Duchess of, 74; 
the beauty and wit of, 68; stories of, 
68, 69. 

(ITld UOt€, 

Lucas, Lord, 25 252, 253* 

Lucknow, 256, 266. 

Lumley, Mr. Augustus, 158, 174- 
Lurgan, Lord, 46. 

Lutyens, Captain Charles, 222. 
Lutyens, Sir Frederick, 222. 

Luxor, 267. 

Lydd, 20, 22. 

Lyndhurst, 235. 

Lysons, Captain, 15 «• 

Lysons, Sir Darnel, Q,.M.G., 15 ■ 
Lyte, Mr. Maxwell, 38. 

Lytton, Countess of, i 53 " 

McCallum, Mr. (steward at Wel- 
Mcctiif i)onald 

McDonnell, Hon. Sir Schomberg, 

178, 183. 

Mandeville, Viscount (after Duke of 
Manchester), 68. 

Manners, Lord John {see Rutland, 
7th Duke of). 

Mansfield, 39, 63, 235, 237, 322, 335, 
app. 346, app. 348. 

Mansfield Hospital, The, app. 346. 
Mansion House (London), The, 120. 
Manvers, 3rd Earl, 178. 

Mapperley Hall, app. 348. 

Mar and Kellie, Countess of, 159. 
Mar Lodge, , Queen Victoria’s visit 
to, 307. 

Mario, Giuseppe, and his wife, 225. 
Marlborough, Duchess of, a bearer 
of Queen Alexandra’s canopy, 129. 
Marlborough, John Churchill,. Duke 
of, a letter quoted, 103. 
Marlborough House, 22, no, 132, 
139, 160. 


Marne, Battle of the, 207. 

Maiples, George (cricketer), 57. 
Marseilles, 287. 

Martin-Smith, Miss Winifred, 55. 
Mary, H.M. Queen, visits Welbeck, 
45 j 74» dines at 3 Grosvenor 
Square, 60; opens new buildings 
at University College, Notting- 
ham, 61; visits 17 Hill Street, 80; 
Golden Wedding presentations ofj 
81; her Coronation canopy bearers 
129; visits Bluehnbach (Salzburg), 
331 - 

Mary, Qjieen of Scots, a pendant 
portrait of, 90. 

Maude, Colonel Sir George, 108 and 

Maxwell, General Sir John, 215. 
Medge Hall, 241 . 

Melba, Madame, 227. 

Melbourne National Gallery, The, 

Melton, 143, 320. 

Melton Constable, 254. 

Membland (Devon), 39. 

Memoirs of JRacing and Hunting, cited, 
12; alluded to, 25, 68, 146, 223, 


Mensdorff, Count Albert, 67, 74, 
327; Vanity Fair describes, app. 

377, 378. 

Mentone, 287. 

Methode nouvelle de dresser les chevaux, 

Methuen, Lord, app. 378, app. 388. 
Metz, 7. 

Middachten, visits to, 10, 1 1; a carp- 
fishing incident at, 1 1 . 

Middlesex Hospitzd, 157. 

Middleton, Captain (Bay), 156, 320. 
Milan, 267. 

Milbanke, Ralph, and duelling, 281, 


Milbum, Mr. Devereux (polo 
player), 72. 

Milbum, Mr. J. E. C. (lawyer), 72. 

Mildmay of Flete, Lady, 220, 267, 


Mildmay of Flete, Lord, alluded to, 
39, 237, 239, 255; a Golden Wed- 
ding party given by, 80; an inter- 
rupted speech of, 192; cruises 
with the Duke of Sutherland, 286; 
a visit to, 323. 

Millais, SirJ. E., R.A., 178. 

Militia, The, training with, I2, 13. 

Miller, Maggie (centenarian), 62. 

Mills, Lady Mary, 153. 

Milner, Viscount, and the Death 
Duties, 180. 

Milner, Rt. Hon. Sir F. G., alluded 
to, 70, 245; an election story of, 
179; and Mr. Gladstone, 179, 180; 
Vanity Fair dt&cciibts, app. 383, 384. 

Minorca, 287. 

Minto, Countess of, a reminiscence 
of, 41; the engagement of, 42; 
alluded to, 77, 78, 79. 

Minto, Earl ofi engagement of, 42; 
as Viceroy of India and Gov.-Gen. 
of Canada, ib. 

Misson (Nottinghamshire), 241. 

Mitchell, Mr. H. R., 139. 

Modder River battle. The, 17, app. 


Modwena, 143. 

Molyneux, The Hon. Sir R., 254. 

Mons, The Retreat from, 209. 

Montagu, The Hon. Edwin, 253. 

Montagu House, 2, 161, 309, 31 1. 

Montenuovo, Prince, 278. 

Montgomery, Mr. Alfred, a remini- 
scence of, 155, 156. 

Montrose, Duchess of, a bearer of 
Queen Alexandra’s and Queen 
Mary’s canopy, 129; alluded to, 

Morges, Paderewski’s villa at, 226. 

Morier, Sir Robert (British Ambas- 
sador in Russia), 270. 

Momingside Hospital (Edinburgh), 
the opening of, 133. 


Morrell, Lady Ottoline V. A. (n6e 
Cavendish-Bentinck), alluded to, 
955 describes arrival at Wel- 
beck, 32-37; the Prince of Wales 
salutes, 43. 

Moscow, 35 271, 274, 275. 

Mottistone, Lord, app. 345. 

Mount Edgcumbe, 4th Earl of, 106, 

Mount Edgcumbe, 5th Earl of, 
marriage of, 107. 

Mount Everest, 257. 

Mount Stewart, 192, 193. 

Mowden, Mrs., 336. 

Muir-Mackenzie of Delvine, Lady, 

Muncaster, Lord and Lady, 46. 

Murray, Mr. C. Fairfax, 83. 

Mxuthly Castle (Perthshire), 46, 48, 

Myers, Dr. A. B., 25. 

Nana Sahib, and the Indian Mutiny 
alluded to, 260. 

Napoleon, a portrait of, 104, 105. 

Napoleon III, Emperor, surrender 
to the Prtissians of, 7. 

Naples, 287. 

National Union of Conservative 
Assocs., The, 178. 

Needham, Mr. Francis, 86. 

Nepal, shooting in, 256, 257, 258-61. 

Nepal, The King of) 260. 

New York, 225, app. 361. 

Newark Hospital Nurses’ Home, The 
app. 346. 

Newborough, 197. 

Newby Park (York), 197. 

Newcastle, William Cavendish, ist 
Duke of, his riding school at Wel- 
beck, 34 and note, 35, 39, 100, 184, 
288, app. 351; alluded to, 86, 97, 

Newmarket, 149, 195, 285, 321, app. 


Newstead, Queen Alexandra’s visit 
to, 305. 

Newtownards, 193. 

Niagara Falls, The, 72, 73. 

Nicholl, Bro. C. R. I., app. 349. 

Nicholson, Mr. John, 83. 

Nile, The, 264. 

Nineteenth Century, The, cited, 73; 
Lord Desborough’s article in, app.' 
354 etseq. 

Noble, Mr. Heatley, 234. 

Nolan, Captain, and Balaclava, 196, 

Norfolk, 233, 251; Lord Henry Ben- 
tinck’s political campaign in, app. 
yjo etseq. 

Norfolk, Duke of, 63; a letter from, 
123, 124. 

Northcote, Lady, 1 74. 

Northcote, Lord, 266. 

Northcote, Sir Stafford, 1 74. 

Northumberland, 6th Duke of, a 
reminiscence of, 13, 14, 

Northumberland, 7th Duke of, a 
guest at Welbeck, 64. 

Nottinghajn (and Nottinghamshire), 
46, 49> 59> 61, 62, 74, 178, 183, 
204, 207, 222, 235, 241, 248, 305, 

3235 336, 337> <^PP’ 344-349- 

Nottingham, The Masonic Hall at, 

Nottingham, University College of, 
41, 61. 

Nottingham Castle, a memorial to 
Captain Ball at, 208. 

Nottingham Museum, 223 a. 

Nottingham Cripples Guild, The, 49. 

Nottingham Liberal Association, 
The, 33. 

Nottinghamshire General Hospital, 
The, app. 346. 

Nulli Secundus Dining Club, The, 27. 

Oates, Mr. F. H., 235. 
Oates, Mr. W. C., 235. 


Old Goldstreamers’ Association, The, 

Old Moore's Almanac, 182. 

Oliphant (farmer), Mr., 25. 

Ormsby-Gore, Lady Beatrice, 64. 

Ormsby-Gore, Rt. Hon. William, 64. 

Ormonde, Lord and Lady, 154. 

Orthopaedic Hospital (Harlow 
Wood), The, the Duchess of Port- 
land’s account of the founding of, 
48-50; opened by King George VI 
and Queen Elizabeth, 62, 63. 

Osborne, Ralph Bernal, 41, 167. 

Osborne House (Isle of Wight), 121. 

Ossington, Viscountess, 14 and note. 

Ossington, Viscount, 14 w. 

Ostend, 61, 280. 

Oswald of Auchencruive, Richard, 


Overstone, Lord, 166 «. 

Oxford, Edward Harley, 2nd Earl 
of, 85 «., 90, 95, lOI. 

Oxford, Henrietta Cavendish Harley 
Countess of, her decorations at 
Welbeck, 34; mentioned, 86, 87. 

Oxford, Robert Harley, ist Earl of, 
40 and note', his attempted murder 
by Guiscard alluded to, 94; a 
portrait of, 95; relics of, 100; the 
Harledan MSS., loi. 

Oxford, The University of, 40, 71, 
269, 321, app. 378, app. 381, app, 
383; the cartoon for west windows 
of New Coll., 104. 

Paddington Station, no, 122, 164. 
Paddy (King Edward VII’s dog), 
death of, 135. 

Paderewski, 47, 226. 

Paget, Lord Alexander, 156, 232. 
Paget, Lord Alfred, 109, 195. 

Paget, Admiral Sir Alfred, 109, 195. 
Paget, General Sir Arthur Henry, 
109 and note, 201, 254, 255, app. 
387, 388. 

Paget, Lord Berkeley, and the auc- 
tion of Lord Wilton’s wine, 44, 45; 
a fine shot, 232, 238. 

Paget, Sir G. E., 235. 

Palffy, Prince, 369. 

Pall Mall, the Guards’ Club in, 22; 
the 1887 Jubilee procession in, 1 15. 

Palmer, Mr. Lynwood, 222. 

Palmer, William (poisoner), 302. 

Palmerston, Viscountess, and the 
Cambridge House sale, 70. 

Palmerston, 3rd Viscount, the mar- 
riage of, 70. 

Panshanger, 70, 74, 77, 207. 

Paris, war ruins at described, 7; 
alluded to, 112, 225, 226, app. 379; 
King Edward VII’s visit to, 135. 

Park Lane, 1,2; the War Hospital in, 
48; the Duke of Cambridge’s 
house in, 147. 

Parker, W. R., V.C., app. 346. 

Parliament, opening of (1886), 112, 
113 - 

Parnell, Mr., app. 373. 

Partab Singh of Idar, Major-Gen. 
H. H. Sir, 203, 204. 

Payne, Mr. George, 17. 

Pearse, Mrs. Godfrey, 225. 

Pearson, Bt., Sir Arthur, 184 and note. 

Peel, Sir Robert, 165 «., 170, 171. 

Peel, Mr. Speaker, 159. 

Pembroke, Earl of) 117, 132, 250. 

Peninsular War, The, 10. 

Penrhyn, Lord, 250. 

People’s Palace, The, Qpeen Vic- 
toria opens, 1 14. 

Pepys-Gockerell, Mr. Andrew, 42. 

Pfere la Chaise Cemetery, The, 67. 

Persia, Nasru ’d-Din, The Shah of, 
visits England, 12 and note. 

Persimmon, the Derby won by, 280. 

Perth, 313. 

‘Perthshire Rose’, The, 5. 

Peyton, Sir Algernon, 305. 

Phoenix Park (Dublin), 10, 135. 

Philae, The Temple of) 267. 


Piccadilly, 2, 115. 

Pictures at Welbeck, 86 et seq., ziQ et 

Pitlochry, 315. 

Place Vendome, The, 7. 

Plevna, Siege of, 20. 

Plumer, General, 206. 

Plunket, Rt. Hon. David (after Lord 
Rathmore), 192. 

Plymouth, 194. 

Plymouth, Countess of, 153. 

Podger (a dog), 206. 

Pole, Sir John Carew, 140, 154. 

Pole-Carew, Lady Beatrice, 154. 

Pole-Carew, Lt.-Gen. Sir Reginald, 
anecdotes of, 19 and note, 23, 24, 26; 
and King Edward VII’s Corona- 
tion rehearsals, 127, 128; the 

honeymoon of, 154; his story of 
Sir Partab Singh of Idar, 204; 
shooting, 237, 238; his story of the 
Ghurkas, 261, 262; Vanity Fair 
describes, app. 378. 

Politics, changes in, i. 

Ponsonby, Rt. Hon. Sir Frederick, 


Ponsonby, Sir Henry, expresses 
Queen Victoria’s displeasure, 24; 
his distinguished qualifications, no, 
1 1 1 ; his advice to a curate, 125. 

Ponsonby, Maj.-Gen. Sir John, in. 

Ponsonby, Capteiin the Hon. Myles, 

Ponsonby of Shulbrede, Lord, in. 

Ponsonby-Fane, Rt. Hon. Sir Spen- 
cer, as Comptroller of the Lord 
Chamberlain’s Department, 107, 
108; recalled at an opening of Pzir- 
liament, 113. 

Poole, Mr. (tailor), 142. 

Popham, Mr. F. L., his horse. Wild 
Dayrell, 234. 

Port Said, 267. 

Portland, Dorothy Duchess of, 96. 

Portland (1773), Margziret Duchess 
of, 94. 

Portland, Winifred Duchess of) her 
marriage alluded to, 40; first visit 
to Welbeck, 46; her recollections, 
and account of the founding of the 
Orthopaedic Hospital, 46-48; ten- 
ants’ presentation to, 65; a bearer 
of Qjieen Alexandra’s and Qpeen 
Mary’s canopy, 129; acts as Mis- 
tress of the Robes, 129; the King 
of Italy and, 139; alluded to, 153; 
de Ldszld’s portraits of) 221, 222; 
her first visit to Vienna, 276; visits 
Prague, 283; lunches with the 
Empress • Eugenie, 284; visits 
Madrid, 284; Countess de Baillet 
Latour’s souvenirs of, 325-7, 
332, 333 j 336, 338, 339-41; at a 
Masonic function, app. 345; at the 
Welbeck Shows, app. 35 1 . 

Portland, 2nd Duke of, marriage of, 
33; a portrait of the Duchess, 95. 

Portland, 3rd Duke of, alluded to, 
5 and note, app. 380; his stables at 
Welbeck, 34; a Reynolds portrait 
of, 96; as Chancellor of the Uni- 
versity of Oxford, 104; marriage 
of the third son of, app. 343. 

Portland, 4th Duke of, portraits of) 
89, 96; and Lord Beaconsfield, 
170-3 and notes; alluded to, app. 

Portland, 5th Duke of, his death 
alluded to, 28, 30, 32; peculiarities 
of, 32 and note; reclusive nature of, 
33; his reconstructions at Welbeck, 
34, 35; the kindness of, 36; his 
house in Hyde Park Gardens, 
38 n.; alluded to, app. 380. 

Portland, 6th Duke of, alludes to 
social and political changes, 1-4; 
parentage and family of, 5, 6; 
birth of, 6; early years of, 6; tours 
the Franco-German battlefields, 7; 
reminiscences of Charles Kingsley, 
7, 8; first school of, 8; in Dublin, 
8-10; visits Holland, 10, ii; the 

private tutor of, 12; goes to Eton, 
12; the army training of, 12, 13; 
and card playing, 13, 14; his first 
sight of Welbeck, 14; transferred 
to the Coldstream Guards, 15, 18; 
a visit to Epsom, 16; recalls his 
brother officers, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 
27; military experiences of, 20, 21, 
22; recalls an embarrassing inci- 
dent, 23, 24; and the Regimental 
Drag Hounds, 25; a riding mishap 
to, 26, 27; a reminiscence of Lord 
Stradbroke, 27, 28; his succession 
to the Dukedom, 28, 29, 30; re- 
verts to the Druce Case, 30, 31; 
first impressions of Welbeck, 32,33; 
discoveries at Welbeck, 34-37; a 
tribute to his stepmother, 37, 38, 

39; his father’s death alluded to, 

39; his marriage alluded to, 40; 
reminiscences of sixty years at 
Welbeck, 41 et seq.', receives the 
Prince of Wales at Welbeck, 42, 43; 
story of a wine purchase, 44, 45; 
receives the Duke and Duchess of 
Teck and Queen Mary, 45; on 
entertaining in London, 50; recalls 
the King of Siam’s visit, 5 1 ; and the 
Amir Feisal, 52; and a fire at Wel- 
beck, 52-55; invites the Test crick- 
eters to Welbeck, 57, 58; visited by 
King Carlos of Portugal, 58; and 
the King and Queen of Spain’s 
visit, 59; entertains Prince Henry 
of Prussia, 59, 60; the King and 
Queen of the Belgians visit, 60; 
visited by King George V, Qjieen 
Mary, and the Prince of Wales, 61; 
visited by King George VI and 
Queen Elizabeth, 62, 63; and the 
Prince of Wales’ tour of the miT»-Tig 
districts, 63, 64; and his tenants, 

65; his reminiscences of the Mar- 
de Soveral, 66; his fiiendship 
with Lord and Lady Desborough, 

70 et seq., 77 j ^ Golden Wedding 


speech quoted, 80, 81 ; his apprecia- 
tion of Mr. R. W. Goulding, 83-86; 
appoints Mr. Francis Needham 
Librarian, 86; describes the art 
contents of Welbeck, 86 et seq.\ ap- 
pointed Master of the Horse, 106 
and note-, his reminiscences of Court 
officials, 106-112; commands to 
Windsor, 112, 125, 126; at the 
opening of Parliament (1886), 112, 
1 13; as Master of the Horse, 112 et 
seq.; and the 1887 Jubilee, 114, 
”5j Queen Victoria’s letters to, 
1 16; the Grand Cross of the Royal 
Victorian Order conferred on, 1 16; 
Lord Salisbury recalled by, 117; 
on Court decorations, 1 17; remini- 
scences of Sir Michael Hicks- 
Beach, 1 18, 1 19; recalls the funeral 
of Queen Victoria, 121, 124; ELing 
Edward VII’s invitation to, 126; 
the Coronation of King Edwzird 
VII, 132; and a dream, 126-128; 
recalls the equerries of King Ed- 
ward VII, 130, 132; and King 
Edward VII’s visit to Edinburgh, 
i 33 > 134; in Dublin, 134, 135; King 
Ferdinand of Bulgaria recalled by, 
136; on the German Emperor’s 
visit in 1891, 137; appointed 

Chairman of Queen Alexandra’s 
Memorial Committee, 139; death 
of King George V recalled by, 140, 
141 ; on riders and riding in Rotten 
Row, 142-146; on coaching, 146- 
150; on social habits, 150, 15 1; 
recalls ladies of beauty, 152-155; 
dandies, mashers, and the jeunesse 
dorie, 156; and the snowstorm of 
January 1881, 157; the London 
season, 157; on balls, 157-160; a 
Foreign Office party, 161; and 
the Sotds, 163; invited to visit Lord 
Beaconsfield, 164; at Hughenden, 
165, 167; notes from Lord Beacons- 
field, 166, 167, 168; on Lord 

Beaconsfield and the Bentinck 
family, 170-173; and the Garter, 
^73 j ^74j alludes to the first politi- 
cal gathering at Welbeck, 174; a 
reminiscence of a Fourth Party 
luncheon, 175; his meeting with 
Mr. Gladstone, 176; a story of Mr. 
Gladstone, 177; and the Lord- 
Lieutenancy of Ireland, 177, 178; 
as President of the National Union 
of Conservative Associations, 178; 
a Home Rule meeting recalled, 
178, 179; and the Death Duties, 
180, 181; a reminiscence of Mr. 
Walter Long, 18 1; reminiscences 
of Lord Salisbury, 18 1, 182; meets 
the German Emperor at Hatfield, 

182, 183; a story of Lord Chaplin 
and bimetallism, 183; recalls Mr. 
Chamberlain on Tariff Reform, 

183, 184, 185; two stories of the 
Duke of Rutland, 185; visit to 
Witley, 1 86; anecdotes of the 8th 
Duke of Devonshire, 186, 187, 
188, 189; the King of Portugal’s 
visit to, 189; on the speeches of the 
8th Duke of Argyll, 190, 191; in 
Ireland, the guest of Lord London- 
derry, 192, 193; recollections of 
sailor friends, 194-196; records in- 
cidents of the Balaclava Charge, 
196, 197; recollections of soldier 
friends, 197-203; reminiscences of 
Lord Roberts, 203, 204; quotes 
The Piper of Pax, 205; and Lord 
Kitchener, 207; at a meeting to 
honour Captain Ball, 208; on the 
Marquess of Titchfield’s part in 
the War, 208 et seq.\ and Mr. 
Lloyd George’s Memoirs, 213; a 
story of a recruit, 215; a guest of 
Sir William Robertson at Cologne, 
216, 217; artists entertained by, 
218 et seq.’, musicians enter- 
tained by, 225, 226, 227; shoot- 
ing reminiscences of, 228 et seq.'. 

Lord Desborough’s letter on 
the Whiteslea Bird Sanctuary 
quoted, 253, 254; journeys in 
India, 256, 257; in India, 257-263; 
at the Durbar (1903), 264-266; a 
reminiscence of the Nile, 267; and 
Lord Reading, 267, 268; recollec- 
tions of Lord Linlithgow, 268, 269; 
his visit to Russia, 269 et seq.', visits 
Vienna and Prague, 276 et seq.; 
lunches with the Empress Eug6nie, 
284; in Madrid, 284, 285; visits to 
Holland, 285, 286; sea cruises, 286, 
287; reminiscences of fidends, 288 
et seq.; reminiscences of Kling 
Edward VII, Queen Alexandra, 
and Qpeen Victoria, 288, 289, 
307, 316; on drunkenness, 313; on 
motoring, 315, 316; a joiimey in a 
boat-carriage, 317; a story of Paul 
Bourget, 318; Countess de Baillet 
Latour’s souvenirs of, 325-327, 
334, 340, 341; the Masonic career 
of, app. 344 et seq.; Vanity Fair 
describes, app. 380, 381. 

Portland, ist Earl of, a portrait of, 
87; relics of, 91, 99, 100, 105; 
alluded to, app. 380. 

Portland, 2nd Earl and ist Duke of, 

37 ^ 7 ’ 

Portland Hospital (Boer War), The, 
201 and note. 

Portland Vzise, The, 88. 

Portsmouth, 138, 195. 

Portugal, staghunting in, 58, 59; the 
Marquis de Soveral and, 66. 

Portugal, King Carlos of^ visits Wel- 
beck, 189; visits Chatsworth, 189; 
as a game shot, 246. 

Portugal, Eling Manuel of. Lord 
Roseberry’s letter to, quoted, 67. 

Prague, 283. 

Preobajensky Guards, The, 276. 

Primrose League, The, 175. 

Prince Consort, The, 106, iii, 123; 
his father alluded to, app. 377. 


Princess Royal, The, 14 1. 

Probyn, Sir Dighton, V.C., 117, 
130, 131. 

Prussia, H.I.H. The Crown Prince 
Frederick of, 115. 

Prussia, H.I.H. Prince Henry of, 
tours the Midlands, 59; enter- 
tained at Welbeck, 60. 
Punchestown Races, The, 318, 319. 
Pytchley Hounds, The, 143. 

Quatre Bras, Battle of, 28. 

Qijieen (a collie), 219, 220. 

Queen’s Nurses, The, and a memor- 
ial to Queen Alexandra, 139. 

Quom Hounds, The, 143, 150. 

Raglan, Lord, and Balaclava, 196. 
Raikes, Rev. G. B., 57, 236. 

Rapti river. The, 257, 261. 

Rayner, D.S.O.,Lt.-Col. F., app. 348. 
Reading, Marquess of, 267, 268. 
Reay, Lord, 188 andn. 

Red Cross, The, 206. 

Reddendo, The, 134 and note. 
Redesdale, Lord, 54. 

Reed, Mr. E. T. (cartoonist), 267. 
Regimented Drag Hounds (Cold- 
stream Guards), The, 25, 26. 

Relics at Welbeck, 90 etseq. 
Rendlesham, Lord, 234, 248. 

Retford Hospital, app. 346. 
Revelstoke, Lord, 39, 74. 

Reynolds, Sir Joshua, 218, 222. 
Rhine, The, ii, 217. 

Ribblesdale, Lord, 46. 

Richardson, Jonathan (a keeper), 

Richmond, Duke of, 40. 

Richmond, George, his copy of a 
Romney alluded to, 42 n\ 96, 97. 
Ridley, Sir Matthew White, 46. 
Ripon, Marchioness of, the parties 
of, 226-227. 

Ripon, Marquess of, parties of, 226, 
227; and shooting, 228-233, 234, 
240, 246, 247; visits India, 256, 
257 * 

Robbins, Sir Alfred, app. 349. 

Roberts, Ellis (artist), 218. 

Roberts, Earl, the Kandahar march 
alluded to, 24, 201; Sir R. Pole- 
Garew helped by, 25; a letter 
from, 123, 124; his Afghan cam- 
paign, 201; the death of, 203; 
reminiscences of, 203, 204; the 
occupation of Kandahar, 262; 
mentioned, app. 378. 

Robertson, Sir William, at Cologne, 
215, 216, 217 

Robinson, Lt.-Col. G. A., app. 348. 

Robinson, Sir Hercules, app. 378. 

Rocky Mountains, The, Lord Des- 
borough’s adventure in, app. 354 

Rolleston, Col. Sir Lancelot, 41 and 

Rome, 47, 69, 141, 193, 267. 

Romilly, Captain, an anecdote of, 18. 

Ronalds, Mrs., 42, 43, 225, 226. 

Ronalds, Mr. Peter, 225, 226. 

Roomwood, 14. 

Rose, Sir Hugh {see Strathnaim, 

Rosebery, Earl of, a letter on the 
Druce Case quoted, 31 J his tribute 
to the Marquis de Several, 67; his 
method with Sir F. Milner, 180; 
alluded to, 185, app. 379; his ‘clean 
slate’ speech alluded to, 186; his 
three questions to the Duke of 
Devonshire, 188; and the Duke of 
Argyll, 190, 191; the cabriolet of, 
147, 148; and a late guest, 202, 
203; the Emperor of Austria 
honours, 284. 

Ross, Mr. (painter), 47. 

Ross, Mr. Donald, the bird collec- 
tion of, 104. 

Ross George, (hotel keeper), 315. 


Rosslyn, Countess of, 42. 

Rosslyn, Earl of, 42, 46, 167, 174. 
Rotten Row, the ‘liver brigade’, 142; 
dress in, 142; riders in, 142-144; a 
collision in, 144; the right to drive 
in, 145, 146. 

Rous, Admiral the Hon. H. J., 17, 

Rowton, Lord, 164, 165, 167, 169, 
178, 379, 380. 

Roxburghe, Duchess of, 328. 
Roxhurghe, Duke of, 232, 327. 

Royal Academy, The, 140. 

Royal Agricultural Society, The, 61 . 
Royal Caledonian Hunt, The, a 
dinner of, 307. 

Royal Company of Archers (Edin- 
burgh), The, 134. 

Royal Horticultural Society, The, 
17; a flower show of, 284, 286. 

Royal Masonic Benevolent Institu- 
tion, The, app. 345. 

Royal Mews, The, 108. ! 


Rubinstein, 47. 

Ruffbrd, 3, 59, 158, 174, 224, 244, 

Runudeep Singh, Sir (Maharajah 
of Nepal), 257, 260. 

Russia, a war threat with, 18, 19; a 
visit to, 269 et seq.; and Hungary, 

Russia, Peter the Great of, a statue 
of, 276. 

Russia, The Grand Duchess Serge 
of, 275. 

Rxissia, The Grand Duke Serge of, 
murder of, 19 n. 

Russia, The Tsar and Tsaritsa of, 19, 
169, 273, 274, 275. 

Russo-Turkish war. The, 270, 271. 
Rutland, Violet Duchess of, 6, 41, 
153; Shatmon’s portrait of, 218; 
the art work of, 224, 225. 

Rutland, 6th Duke of, 184, 185. 
Rutland, 7 th Duke of, 185. 

Rutland, 8th Duke of, monument at 
Belvoir of, 225. 

S. K., Mr., a story of, 312. 

S. P., Mr., 322. 

Saarbriicken, Battle of, 6. 

St. Albans, Duchess of, 305. 

St. Albans, Duke of, 41 ; his ‘right’ in 
Rotten Row, 145; Queen Alex- 
andra’s visit to, 305. 

St. Ann’s Hill (Chertsey), 39. 

St. Eloi, 214. 

St. George’s Chapel, Windsor, Queen 
Victoria’s coffin in, 123; Duke of 
Clarence’s monument in, 139. 

St. James’s Palace, officers of the 
Guard at, 22, 23; Qjieen Alex- 
andra at, 140. 

St. James’s Park, 2, 1 15. 

St. James’s Square, 160. 

St. James’s Street, 115. 

St. Oswald, Lord, 267. 

St. Patrick’s Cathedral (Dublin), 

135 * 

St. Paul’s Cathedral, 119, 120. 

St. Petersburg, 270-275, 329; app. 

377 - 

St. Simon, 104, 224. 

St. Stephen’s Green (Dublin), 9. 

Sala Dante (Rome), The, 47. 

Salisbury, Marchioness of, 47, 64 j 70 » 
74, 80, 81, 1 17, 128, 161, 167, 178, 
i8i, 182, 327. 

Salisbury, Marquess of, alluded to, 
64, 74, 80, 81, 1 18, 126, 167; re- 
commends the Duke of Poland 
for the Mastership of the Horse, 106; 
reminiscences of, 112, ii 3 > ^^75 
and King Edward VII’s Corona- 
tion, 127, 128,* and the Foreign 
Office parties, 161; the Lord- 
Lieutenancy of Ireland offered by, 
177, 178; at a meeting in Notting- 
ham, 178; his appointment of Mr. 
Walter Long, 18 1; and Old Moore’s 

Almanac, 182; his guests at Hat- 
field, 182; his resignation an- 
nounced, 183; and the Duke of 
Devonshire’s judgment, 186, 187; 
and the Duke of Devonshire’s 
‘Holy Days’, 189; and de Soveral, 
app. 376; mentioned, app. 382. 

Salmond, Lady (Monica), 76. 

Salvation Army, The, a meeting at 
Mansfield alluded to, 322. 

Sandilands, Rev. W., 12. 

Sandringham, 1 1 1, 203, 234, 307. 

Sarajevo, the Archduke Franz-Fer- 
dinand assassinated at, 332, app. 


Sargent, John S., at Welbeck, 58; 
reminiscences of, 2 18, 219, 220, 222. 

Sassoon, Mrs. Arthur, 153. 

Saunderson, Col. E. J., 191. 

Savile, Mr. Henry, wins the Derby, 
158; mentioned, 224. 

Savile, Lord, 235, 236, 254. 

Savoyard (race-horse), app. 391. 

Saxe-Weimar, Gen. Prince Edward 
of, 162, 163. 

Scapa Flow, German fleet destroyed 
at, 217. 

Scarbrough, Earl of, 178. 

Scharf, Sir George, and the Wdbeck 
treasures of art, 38. 

Scharrer, Miss Irene, 226. 

Schonbom-Buchheim, Count, 277. 

Scotland, King Edward VII and 
Qjieen Alexandra visit, 132- 134; 
alluded to, 200, 221; a grouse 
story, 244; decrease of dnmken- 
ness in, 313; the first motor cars in, 


Scott, Sir Edward and Lady, 1 12. 

Scott, Lord George, a story of the 
boyhood of, 310. 

Scott (1809-1860), Lord John, Mat 
Dawson’s story of, 31 1. 

Scott, Hon. Thomas Charles {see 
Clonmell, Earl of) . 

Scott of Ancrum, Mr. James, app. 353. 

Scott of Balcomie, General Johnj 
app. 380, 

Sebright, Edgar (after Baronet), 25. 

Sedan, 7. 

Sedding, Mr. John B., designs Wel- 
beck Chapel, 39. 

Seely, Mr. F. E., 235, 236. 

Sefton, Earl of 149. 

Selwood, Mr. C. H., 335. 

Seville, 287. 

Sgambati, 47. 

Shannon, Sir J. J., R.A., his portrait 
of the Duchess of Portland, 46, 
218; some other portraits by, 218. 

Sheffield, 14, 27. 

Shelton, Mr. A. W., cricket notes 
provided by, 56, 57. 

Sherwood, R. (jockey), 234. 

Sherwood Forest, 239, 240. 

Sherwood Foresters, The, a treach- 
erous Irish attack on, 8. 

Sheward, G. (horse-dealer), 148. 

Shields, Sir Douglas, his hospital in 
Park Lane, 48, 49. 

Shooting, fine shots recalled, 22B et 
seq.; Tables of, 229, 235-238, 248, 
249, 251; wild-duck, 241; poach- 
ers and keepers, 242, 244, 250; the 
Whiteslea Bird Sanctuary, 253. 

Shomcliffe, 19, 20, 30. 

Shrewsbury, Earl and Countess of, 

Siam, Eling Chulalonkom of, re- 
miniscences of visit of, 51, 52. 

Sicily, 287. 

Simon, Jules, 47. 

Simpson, Sergeant-Major, 17. 

Sims (a keeper), 249. 

Singapore, 330. 

Skobelev, General, and the Russo- 
Turkish war, 270, 271. 

Smith, Captain Arthur (Doggie), 
156, 319- 

Smith, R.W.Bro. Sir P. Colville, 
app. 351. 

Smithson (1623), John. 100. 


Snob’ s Bible, The, 77. 

Sorrento, 287. 

Souls, The, 163. 

Spackman, Sergeant, described, 17, 

Spain, King Alfonso of, 59; his visit 
recalled, 76; as a game shot, 246. 

Spain, Queen Ena of, 59; visit of, 
recalled, 76. 

Spalding, Major E. H., app. 348. 

Spanish Riding School (Vienna), 
The, 143, app. 369. 

Spencer, Countess, 41, 63. 

Spencer, Earl, 63. 

Spencer House, 2. 

Spottiswoode, Miss (after Lady John 
Scott) , the songs of, 3 1 1 . 

Stafford House, 2. 

Staffordshire Militia, The, officers of, 
13; Mess visitom, 13. 

Stair, Earl of, 307. 

Stamfordham, Lord, 212. 

Standish, Henry, 7. 

Standish, Mrs., 7. 

Stapleford (Nottinghamshire), app. 

Stapleton, Captain the Hon. Miles 
(after Lord Beaumont), the nick- 
name of, 26. 

Star and Garter (Richmond), The, 
the hospital at, 49. 

Staten, Count Rudolph van der, 150; 
his account of the Lipizzaner Stud 
after 1918, app. 367-369. 

Stenton, Miss Annie, 48. 

Stephens, James (Fenian), 8. 

Stephens, Rev. J. O. (Rector of 
Blankney), 323, 324. 

Stephenson, Admiral Sir Henry, 

Stevens, Miss Mary, her marriage to 
Sir Arthur Paget, 109 n. 

Stewart, Sir Douglas and Lady, 48. 

Stokes, General Sir John, a humor- 
ous mishap to, 22. 

Stonor, Hon. Mrs. Francis, 1 1 1. 

Stonor, Hon. Sir Harry, as Groom in 
Waiting, 1 1 1 ; at a fancy-dress ball, 
159; as a shot, 228, 229 «., 231, 
232, 240, 247. 

Storrington, 12. 

Stradbroke, Lord, his reply to a 
toast, 27, 28. 

Strathmore, Countess of, 5. 

Strathnaim, Lord, his humorous 
dealing with a Fenian demonstra- 
tion, 8, 9. 

Strauss, Johann, 157, 158. 

Strauss, family. The, the home of, 

Streatfield, Col. Sir Henry, 139. 

Strong, Mr. S. Arthur (Librarian to 
the House of Lords), 83, 159. 

Stuart, John (gamekeeper), 6. 

Stuart of Wortley, Lord and Lady, 

Studley, 233. 

Style, Sir F. Montague, Bt., 93. 

Suez Canal, The, 256. 

Suffield, 5th Lord, 130, 13 1. 

Suffolk, 233. 

Suisgill, 234. 

Summers, D. M. (head-keeper), 242. 

Surley Hall, Clewer, 26. 

Sutherland, 44, app. 353. 

Sutherland, Duchess of, a bearer of 
Queen Alexandra’s, and Queen 
Mary’s, canopy, 129; alluded to, 
i53» 159. 184, 312. 

Sutherland, 4th Duke of, the London 
house of, 2; alluded to, 184; an 
estate purchased by his prede- 
cessor, 188; a cruise with, 286. 

Sutton-in-Ashfield, app. 346. 

Symonds, Sir William, his experi- 
ments in shipbuilding, 89. 

Szechenyi, Count, 248. 

Tangier, 287. 

Tanjore, S.S., 263. 

Taplow Court, 51, 70, 77, 207. 


2 D 

TariflF Reform, 183. 

Tart Hall, 90 and note. 

Tay, The river, 6, 62. 

Taylor, Mr. J. Herbert, 46. 

Teck, T.R.H. The Duke and Duchess 
ofj visit Welbeck, 45. 

Teddesley, 13, app. 343. 

Teesdale, Sir Christopher, V.C., 130 
and note. 

Temple, Archbishop, a Coronation 
anecdote of, 128. 

Thames, The, 120. 

The Piper of Pax, an extract from, 


The Rook (a charger), 1 14. 

The Star (a pet mongrel), 23, 24. 

Thistlethwayte, Mr., 261. 

Thomas, Mr. Hugh Lloyd, 64. 

Thoresby, 3, 59. 

Thome Moor (Doncaster), 241. 

Thornton, Mr. (organist), 39. 

Tichborae Case, The, alluded to, 3 1 . 

Tinker, Mr. (Clerk of the Works), 


Titchfield, Marchioness of, marriage 
of, 43; aUuded to, 144, 225, 334; 
visits Amerongen, 2 1 1 ; at the Wel- 
beck Shows, app. 351. 

Titchfield, Marquess of, marriage of, 

43; his regiment alluded to, 48; 
coming-of-age party of, 76, 221, 
app. 346; the Kaiser’s telegram at 
birth of, 137; in the War of 1914, 

208 et seq., 334; visits Amerongen, 

21 1 ; his meeting with Miss Ivy 
Gordon-Lennox recalled, 213; 
Philip de Ldszlo’s portrait of, 221; 
his experience in a boat-carriage, 


Tomasson, Captain W. H. (Chief 
Constable), 235, 236, 238, 241, 

Tompion, Thomas, a clock by, 98. 

Tongue, Lord Reay’s house at, 188. 

Tottenham, Colonel Loftus, app. 373. 

Toulon, 287. 


Tower of London, The, 18, 19, 113. 

Townsend-Farquhar, Sir Walter, 
1 12. 

Tranby Croft, 200. 

Trent, Lady, 61. 

Trent, Lord, and Nottingham Uni- 
versity, 41, 61. 

Trent Bridge Cricket ground. The 
Test matches on, 57, 58. 

Troon, 317, 318. 

Trotter, Colonel, 209. 

Tuileries, The, 7. 

Tullibardine, Marquess of (after 
Duke of Athol), 214. 

Turberville, Professor A. S., 89, 10 1. 

Turf Club, The, app. 377, app. 388, 
app. 390. 

Turner, Captain, 208 and n. 

Turner, Mr. F. J., 31 and note, 32 «., 
33. a - PP - 352. 

Turner, Mr. J. H., the Duke of Port- 
land’s first motor car described by, 
314, 3x5; alluded to, app. 352. 

Txmier, Mr. T. Warner, 52, 54, 56, 
229, 231, 241, 242, app. 352. 

Tver, 271. 

Underley (Westmorland), 249. 
Upper Grosvenor Street, i, 10. 

Vakar ul Umara, The, visits Wel- 
beck, 45. 

Valentia, Viscount, a story of, 305. 

Vane-Tempest, Lord Herbeit, 232. 

Vardon, Harry, 55. 

Vaughan, Kate, 156, 157, 271 «. 

Venice, 263, 264, 286. 

Ventry, Lord and Lady, 268. 

Verulam, Countess of, 153. 

Vice-regal Lodge (Dublin), The, 
134, 135- 

Victoria, H.M. Queen, and Germany, 
6; Sir Henry Bentinck appointed 
permanent Groom-in-Waiting to. 

lo; alluded to, i6, 329; her 
daughter, Princess Alice, 19; an 
anecdote of, 23, 24; and the 
Marquis de Several, 66; Count 
Mensdorff’s relationship to, 67; 
appoints the Duke of Portland 
Master of the Horse, 106; and a 
shy debutante, 107; and a deaf 
Crown equerry, 108; Lord Col- 
ville and, 109; a Groom in Waiting 
to, iii; the Duke of Portland 
commanded to Windsor by, 112; 
opens the People’s Palace, 114; 
her Jubilee (1887), 114, 115; at- 
tends an assembly of school chil- 
dren in Hyde Park, 115; letters 
from, 1 16; and the statue of Queen 
Anne, 120; the death of, 121, 238; 
the funeral procession of, 121-124; 
reminiscences of, 125, 126; and the 
Kaiser’s telegram to ELruger, 137, 
138; offers the Garter to the Duke 
of Portland, 173, 174; mentioned, 
212; her sketch of the Duchess of 
Rutland, 224; Russian peasants’ 
respect for, 273; her visit to Darm- 
stadt, 288, 289; her visit to Mar 
Lodge, 307; and early motoring, 

Victoria Barracks (Windsor), The, 

Victoria Station, Queen Victoria’s 
funeral cortege at, 12 1, 122; men- 
tioned, 136. 

Vienna, alluded to, 112, 149, app. 
367; the Spanish Riding School at, 
143, 277; andthevalse, 157; visits 
to, 276 et seq.; the Congress of, 329. 

Villiers, Lady Edith, the marriage 
and death of, 107. 

Vincent, Sir Edgar {see D’Abemon, 
Viscount) . 

Vincent, Lady Helen {see D’Abemon, 
Viscountess) . 

Vincent, Jim (bird-watcher), 252, 
253, 254- 

Vivian, Colonel Ralph, 269, 270, 

Vizianagram, The Maharajah of, 

Wales, H.R.H. Albert Edward. 
Prince of {see Edward VII, H.M, 

Welles, H.R.H. Alexandra Princess 
of {see Alexandra, H.M. Queen). 

Wales, H.R.H. Edward Prince of 
{see H.M. Edward VIII, King). 

Walker, Mr. G. G. (cricketer), 57. 

Walker, Mr. William (centenarian), 
61, 62. 

Wallace, Mr. Frank (artist), 223. 

Wallace, Sir Richard, i . 

Wallace Collection, The, i. 

Waller-Otway, Colonel, 25, 

Walsingham, 6th Lord, 232 and note, 

Walters, Mrs. (‘Skittles’), 143. 

Weilthall, Brig. -Gen., app. 349. 

Wanley, Humphrey (Librarian), 85 
and note, 10 1. 

Wantage, Lord, 165 and note; a letter 
from, i&Q and note. 

War of 1914, The, 8, ii, 24, 48, 55, 
66, 70, 84, 109 n., 150, 157, 158, 
195, 206, 207 etseq., 221, 226, 245, 
247, 269, 278, 287, 326, 332 etseq., 
O'PP- 347» 348, app. 350. 

Ward, Hon. Sir John, 5 «., 239, 

Ward, Lady, 308. 

Warping, 241. 

Warrender, Lady Maud, 159, 226. 

Warwick, Goimtess of, 153. 

Washington, 268. 

Waterford, Marquess of) 264. 

Waterloo, Battle of, 10, 28. 

Waugh, Mr. W., on imported Lipiz- 
zaner stallions and mares, app. 366, 


Wavertree, Lady, 153. 


Webb, Mr. and Mrs., 305. 

Webber, Amherst, 227, 327. 

Welbeck, alluded to, 3; the Duke of 
Portland’s first sight of, 14; the 
Coldstream parties at, 26; condi- 
tion of, 32; the Duke of Portland’s 
arrival at, ib.‘, Lady Ottoline’s 
description of, 32-37 and notes', the 
riding school at, 34 and note, 35, 
39, 100, 184, 288; art works at, 38, 
83 et seq.', the Chapel at, ib.’. Lady 
Bolsover at, 39; life at, 41 et seq.'. 
King of Portugal visits, 58, 189; 
tenants’ address to the Duke, 65; 
the Marquis de Several’s visits to, 
66; Lady Desborough’s recollec- 
tions of, 73-76; the fire at, 75; por- 
celain at, 100; Royal letters at, 
10 1 ; a letter from the Duke of 
Wellington quoted, 102; a letter 
from the Duke of Marlborough 
quoted, 103; King Edward VII 
and Queen Alexandra at, 126; and 
the death of King George V, 140; 
Lipizzaner mares at, 150; Sir R. 
Pole-Carew and, 154; Lord Bea- 
consfield’s wish to visit, i68, 169; 
the home-brewed ale of, 173 n,; 
the first political gathering at, 174; 

, a Tariff Reform meeting at, 183-5; 
Lord Charles Beresford at, 195; 
a review of nurses in the Park at, 
206; Lord Kitchener a guest at, 
207, app. 350; Army recruits in the 
Park at, 2 15; artists and musicians 
entertained at, ,218 et seq.', the 
fountains at, 223; Mrs. Ronalds 
at, 226; the Chapel organ at, ib.', 
shooting at, 228, 231, 240, 244; 
partridge driving at, 239; men- 
tioned, 268; Count Larisch’s visits 
to, 278; tibe Archdiike Franz Fer- 
dinand’s visits to, 284; the Library 
alluded to, 305; M'Graine and 
the undergrormd passages at, 306; 
a story of a chimney sweep at, 

324; Countess de Baillet Latour’s 
recollections of, 325 et seq.', a 
Masonic gathering at, app. 346; 
foal and agricultural shows at, 

<^PP- 350, 351- 

Welbeck Tenants’ Agricultural As- 
sociation, The, 51, app. 350, 

Welbeck Tenants’ Cricket Club, The, 
some players with, 56. 

Welbeck Woodhouse, 14, 98. 

Welfitt, Colonel W. S., 89. 

Wellesley, Col. the Hon. Frederick, 
157, 270, 271. 

Wellesley, Marchioness, and the 
family of, CLpp. 342, 343. 

Wellesley, Richard, 13. 

Wellington, Duke of, the London 
house of, 2; alluded to, 10, 156; 
Lord Stradbroke’s memory of, 28; 
a letter from quoted, 102. 

Wellington Barracks, 19. 

Wemyss, Andrew, 222. 

Wemyss, Captain Michael John, 

Wemyss, Earl of, his house Gosford 
alluded to, 54. 

Wemyss, The late Earl of, 233. 

Wemyss, Lady Victoria A. V., 
alluded to, 26, 326, 333, 338; 
Sargent’s sketch of, 220; visits 
Hungary, 283; at Cap Martin, 
284; marriage of, 334. 

Wenlock, Lord, 256. 

West, Mr. Alfred, 131 n., 287. 

West, Mrs. Cornwallis, 154. 

Westminster, Duke of, Grosvenor 
House mentioned, i; alluded to, 
31. 255. 

Westminster Abbey, 114, 115, 126, 

Westmorland, app. 344. 

Westmorland, Countess of, 159. 

Wethered, Miss Joyce, 55. 

Wheeler, Mrs., 154. 

Whitaker, Mr. H., 235. 

Whitaker, Sir Albert, Bt., 255. 

Wliite, Colonel ‘Bogey’, 15. 

Whitehall, 115. 

White’s Club (Grockford’s) {see Dev- 
onshire House) . 

Whiteslea Bird Sanctuary, The, Lord 
Desborough’s letter on quoted, 
253, 254. 

Whitshed, Miss (The Duke of Port- 
land’s great-aunt), 10. 

Whitshed, Miss Elizabeth, 198. 

Whitty, Bro. F. B., app. 344 and note. 

Whitwell, 39. 

Whymper, Charles, 222. 

Whymper, Edward, his escape on 
the Matterhorn, 223. 

Wickham, Henry, 25. 

Wigram, Captain Clive (after Lord 
Wigram), 265. 

Wigram, Colonel Godfrey, 15, 28. 

Wilczek, Count, 278. 

Wilkinson, Mr. G. F., app. 349. 

Willans, Sir Frederic, 140. 

William I of Prussia, King, France 
surrenders to, 7. 

William II, Kaiser, 115; his visit to 
England alluded to, 1 18; at Queen 
Victoria’s death and funeral, 121, 
122, 123; story of a speech of, 137; 
his telegram at birth of Mzirquess 
of Titchfield, 137; his telegram to 
Kruger, 137, 138; at Hatfield 

House, 182; visits a wounded 
officer, 212; and the Archduke 
Franz-Ferdinand, 330, 331. 

Williams, Sir Fenwick, and the Siege 
of Kars, 130. 

Willingdon, Marquess of, 269. 

Willoughby, Hon. C., 236. 

Wilson, Mr. Henry (architect), 39. 

Wilson, Sir Jacob, 46. 

Wilson, Mr. R. H. Rimington, 232, 

Wilton, 228, 250. 

Wilton, 2nd Earl of, his wine auc- 
tioned, 44, 45. 

Wiltshire, Earl of (after Marquess of 
Winchester), 269, 276. 

Wimbledon Common, 226, 227, 230. 

Winchester, 15 th Marquess of, his 
death at Magersfontein, 17, 248; 
mentioned, 74 and note, 248. 

Windsor, the Victoria Barracks at, 
i9j 23; an episode at, 23, 24; Sir 
Watkin Wynn’s heir drowned at, 
25J Queen Victoria’s funeral cor- 
tege at, 123; the Kaiser visits 
Queen Victoria at, 138; the Ajrch- 
duke Franz-Ferdinand visits, 33 1 . 

Windsor Castle, an episode at, 23, 24; 

. the Duke of Portland commanded 
to dine at, 1 12, 125; a reminiscence 
of the Kaiser at, 138; the Duke of 
Clarence’s monument in St. 
George’s Chapel, 139. 

Windsor Park, 12. 

Wingfield, Colonel J. M., app. 349. 

Winter Palace (St. Petersburg), The, 
the Court balls at, 274. 

Winterhalter, his portrait of the 
Empress Eug6nie, 285. 

Winterton, Countess, 9 and note. 

Wise, Charles (horse-dealer), 25. 

Witley, 185, 186, 243. 

Wolff, Sir Henry Drummond, 175. 

Wombwell, Sir George Ofby, at 
Balaclava, 197; reminiscences of, 
198; Vanity Fair describes, app. 
385 - 387 - 

Wood, General Sir Evelyn, V.G., 15 n. 

Wood, General W. N., 17. 

Woodhall Spa, 323, 324. 

Woods, Edwin (a keeper), 240. 

Worksop, the carriage drive to, 36; 
Divine Service at, 39; the Prince 
of Wales’ arrival at, 42; an dec- 
tion meeting at, 179; the station 
at, 326; war refugees at, 335; 
the new Hospital wing at, app. 


Wyndham, Captain the Hon. Ed- 
ward, 209. 


Wyndham, Rt. Hon. George, 135,178. 
Wynn, Lieut. E. W. Williams-, the 
drowning of, 25. 

Wynn, Sir Watkin Williams-, 25. 
Wynyard, 250. 

Wytschaete, German attacks at, 209, 

Yeates, Mr. Alfred, 54. 

York (and Yorkshire), 179, 197, 198, 
206, 233, app. 383, app. 386. 

York and Ainsty Hounds, The, app. 


York and Lancaster Regiment (the 
84th), The, 14. 

Yorkshire Land and Warping Com- 
pany, The, 241. 

Yssel river. The, 1 1 . 

Ypres, 212, 217. 

Zetland, Countess of, 319. 

Zetland, Earl of, 178, 240, 255; as 
Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland, 318, 

Zoedone, wins the Grand National, 

Zulu War, The, 1 5 w. 

Zuyder Zee, The, 285. 

Zwolle (Holland), 285, 286. 


The stamped on the front cover of this and 
my earlier books is the form of capital P commonly 
used by William Cavendish,,^ Duke of Newcastle, 
in the autograph manuscript of his work on horse-